OF   THE 

: w" 

Division ^i-^. 

Range U.'C... 

Shelf. \:€. 

Received. ^ZJ^^y..^.^..^:^.  187^ 


▼                                                                                                                                                             ▼ 

' 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFT  OF 

D>\NIKL    (\     y\\  i.M  AN. 

\                                                                                                                                                                                                                    lLi 

Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.archive.org/details/faithfulministryOOholmricli 


A    FAITHFUL    MINISTRY. 


SERMONS 


BY 


JOHN    MILTON     HOLMES, 

FOR    EIGHT    YEARS    TASTOR    OF    THE     FIRST     CONGREGATIONAL 
CHURCH,  JERSEY   CITY,    N.   J., 

1861  — 1869. 


With  a  Commemorative  Sermon,  by 

G.  BUCKINGHAM  WILLCOX, 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction  and  Commemorative  Sermon,  by 

GEORGE  B.  BACON. 


NEW   HAVEN,    CONN.  : 

CHAS.  C.  CHATFIELD  &  CO. 
1872. 


H6. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872,  by 

Charles  C.  Chatfield  &  Co., 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


NEW   HAVEN,    CONN.  : 
THE  COLLEGE  COURANT   PRINT. 


TO   THE   MEMORY   OF 


JOHN  MILTON  HOLMES. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE. 

Introduction, vu 

SERMONS. 

I. — The  Ministry,  .        .         .    *    .         .         i 

(May  27,  1861.) 
11.— Satisfied  in  Heaven,      ...       29 
{1862.) 

III. — Seen  of  Angels,      .         .        .        -55 
(1861.) 

IV. — Giving  the  Heart,  .         .         .         .81 

(1863.) 
V. — The  Witness  for  the  Truth,        .     103 

(1864.) 
VI. — The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty,  129 

(Thanksgiving  Day,  1864.) 

VII. — The  Pilgrim  Temple  Builders,     .     163 

(1865.) 
VIII. — The  Danger  oe  Looking  Back,     .     213 

(1866.) 

IX. — The  Broadness  of  the  Bible,       .     237 

(Anniversary  of  Hudson  Co.  Bible  Society,  1866.) 

X. — A  Pastoral  Letter,        .         .         .     275 

(Arcachon,  France,  Nov.,  1867.) 

XI. — The  Mount  of  Vision,    .         .         .     287 
(May  23,  1869.) 

APPENDIX. 

I. — Commemorative  Discourse,     .        .313 

(By  Rev.  G.  Buckingham  Willcox,  Sept.  24,  1871.) 

II. — Commemorative  Discourse,     .         .     339 
(By  Rev.  George  B.  Bacon,  October  8,  187 1.) 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  author  of  the  sermons  included  in  this  volume,  as  a 
memorial  of  whom  also  the  volume  has  been  prepared,  will 
scarcely  need  an  introduction  to  those  who  are  likely  to  be  the 
readers  of  it.  His  own  congregation,  whose  love  for  him  as  their 
first  pastor  was  only  equalled  by  his  love  for  them  as  his  first  and 
only  flock,  have  desired  to  have  in  permanent  form,  for  their  own 
use,  some  of  the  characteristic  discourses  of  which  they  retain  so 
vivid  a  recollection,  and  by  which,  when  they  listened  to  them,  they 
weire  so  greatly  stimulated  and  instructed.  Moreover,  there  are 
few  men  among  the  graduates  of  Yale  College  for  the  past  twenty 
years,  whose  circle  of  College  acquaintance  was  larger  than  his. 
And  it  is  believed  that  there  are  many, — not  only  of  those  who  were 
more  or  less  closely  with  him  in  the  four  years  of  study  at  New 
Haven,  but  also  of  the  graduates  of  later  years,  among  whom  the 
fame  of  his  genius,  his  good  fellowship,  his  wit,  his  enthusiasm  and 
manliness,  still  lingers  as  not  the  least  of  the  traditions  of  recent 
College  history, — who  will  be  glad  to  see  what  kind  of  work  it  was 
with  which  the  years  of  his  active  manhood  were  employed.  It  is 
chiefly,  though  not  solely,  to  these  two  classes  of  readers  that  the 
present  volume  makes  appeal. 

But  it  will  not  be  without  a  certain  larger  and  more  general  value. 
To  be  sure,  there  will  not  be  found  in  the  sermons  much  that  is 
new  or  striking,  in  the  substance  of  the  thought.  The  gospel  which 
Mr.  Holmes  preached  was  no  other  gospel  than  that  which  may 
be  heard  from  scores  and  hundreds  of  pulpits  throughout  the  land. 
And  there  are  no  such  singularities  of  thought  or  peculiarities  of 
doctrine  as  would  justify  the  publication  of  this  volume  as  a  con- 
tribution to  religious  or  theological  discussion.  But  there  is  in  the 
way  of  putting  this  familiar  truth,  in  the  method  of  telling  this  "old, 
old  story,"  so  much  that  is  characteristic  of  the  preacher,  that  it 
cannot  fail  to  recall  him  to  those  who  knew  him,  and  to  indicate 


viii  Introduction. 

the  peculiarities  of  his  genius  to  those  who  did  not  know  him.  In 
some  respects  even,  the  preaching  of  which  this  volume  is,  in  part, 
the  record,  is  worthy  to  be  studied  as  a  model  of  effectiveness. 
Whatever  else  it  is  or  is  not,  it  is  good  preaching.  It  made  itself 
heard  and  felt  and  remembered.  And  the  characteristics  of  it  are 
worthy  to  be  noted,  for  they  were  also  the  characteristics  of  a  man 
beloved  and  honored,  and  lamented  beyond  his  fellows. 

In  some  respects,  indeed,  the  style  of  Mr.  Holmes'  preaching 
was  at  first  a  disappointment,  even  to  those  who  thought  they  knew 
him  best.  In  college,  he  was  so  full  of  irrepressible  fun,  and 
so  famous  for  his  brilliant  rhetoric,  that  it  seemed  as  if  his  preaching 
might  probably  be  of  that  showy  and  popular  sort  which  is  called 
♦'sensational,"  and  which  wins  applause  by  an  appeal  to  something 
less  noble  than  the  reason  or  the  conscience.  At  any  rate,  it  was 
supposed  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  keep  back  his  humor, 
nor  to  subordinate  his  impassioned  style  to  that  decorous  and 
reverent  gravity  of  speech  which  is  natural  when  one  is  speaking  as 
the  ambassador  of  Christ,  and  as  though,  by  him,  God  were  be- 
seeching a  sinful  world  to  be  reconciled  and  saved.  That  Mr. 
Holmes'  preaching  should  be  most  of  all  remarkable  for  its 
studiously  simple  and  practical  directness  was  hardly  to  be 
expected. 

But  from  the  very  beginning  of  his  ministry  to  its  untimely  close, 
he  seems  to  have  been  upon  his  guard  against  such  mere  display  of 
brilliancy,  as  would  have  been  the  easiest  and  most  natural  thing 
for  him  if  he  had  not  been  looking  higher  than  himself.  He  did  not 
so  much  care  to  be  popular,  but  he  was  mightily  in  earnest  to  do 
good.  And  so  the  popularity  which  came  to  him  was  solid  and 
worthy.  Losing  himself  in  his  Divine  Master,  he  was  found  in  him 
a  faithful  minister,  neither  barren  nor  unfruitful  in  the  day  when  the 
Lord  called  him  into  rest.  He  knew  in  what  direction  his  natural 
temperament  made  him  most  liable  to  error,  and  he  held  himself  in 
sober  restraint  lest  he  should  exhibit  his  own  gifts  rather  than  the 
gospel  to  the  proclamation  of  which  his  gifts  were  religiously 
devoted.  Even  his  literary  tastes  and  studies  were  held  in  check, 
and  made  to  occupy  a  subordinate  place,  lest  they  might  interfere 
with  the  great  work  which  was  the  one  commanding  purpose  of  his 
soul.  Naturally,  his  tastes  led  him  in  the  direction  of  the  study  of  the 
English  language  and  literature.  He  was  glad  whenever  it  was 
possible  for  him  to  make  the  indulgence  of  that  taste  work  in  with 
the  performance  of  his  pulpit  duty.  One  of  the  last  books  he 
bought  (when  he  was  in  London,  on  his  way  home,  after  his  long 


Introdiwtion.  ix 

and  weary  search  for  health)  was  a  copy  of  the  "English  Hexapla," 
containing  the  six  oldest  English  versions  of  the  New  Testament. 
The  study  of  the  sacred  text-book  of  the  Christian  faith,  was  all  the 
more  delightful  to  him  that  he  could  combine  with  it  the  exploration 
of  those  venerable  treasures  of  "  English  undefiled." 

The  same  directly  practical  endeavour  by  which  the  sermons  are 
characterised  marked  Mr.  Holmes'  pastoral  service  no  less  dis- 
tinctly. His  field  was  one  requiring  much  of  the  kind  of  drudgery 
which,  by  and  by,  grows  Very  irksome  to  a  spirit  intolerant  of  mere 
routine,  and  eager  for  the  more  congenial  literary  labors  of  the 
study  and  the  pulpit.  But  he  was  faithful  in  it,  and  as  successful  as 
he  was  faithful.  In  this  department  of  his  work,  he  was  free  to  avail 
himself  of  the  rare  gifts  of  his  social  nature.  His  bright  and 
pleasant  face  (which,  to  be  sure,  grew  old  and  careworn,  year  by 
year,  but  never  ceased  to  be  a  bright  and  sunny  face,  even  while  he 
was  passing  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death)  brought 
with  it  a  benediction  into  every  sick-room  or  house  of  sorrow  into 
which  it  entered.  It  was  easy  for  his  people  to  approach  him,  to 
know  him,  to  trust  and  love  him.  He  was  one  among  them,  rather 
than  over  them.  His  simple,  hearty  manliness  made  him  the 
brother  of  them  all,  from  the  least  of  them  to  the  greatest ;  and 
brotherly  love  abounded  among  them,  as  it  could  hardly  fail  to 
abound  in  a  church  with  such  a  minister. 

So  much  of  biographical  record  is  contained  in  the  two  com- 
memorative sermons  which  are  appended  to  this  volume,  and 
which  were  preached  in  Mr.  Holmes'  church  within  a  short  time 
after  his  death,  that  a  formal  sketch  of  his  life  is  not  needed  in  this 
introduction.  It  is  only  necessary  to  add  a  few  words  of  explana- 
tion concerning  the  arrangement  of  the  volume,  and  the  plan  which 
has  been  followed,  in  the  selection  of  these  ten  discourses,  rather 
than  any  others,  from  the  abundant  material  which  of  course 
remains  after  an  active  pastorate  of  so  many  years,  < 

I.  In  order  to  make  the  volume  so  far  as  possible  a  comemora- 
tive  book,  it  was  thought  best  not  to  choose  the  sermons  of  any 
one  period  of  Mr.  Holmes'  ministry,  but  rather  to  select  them  from 
the  earliest  as  well  as  from  the  latest  years  of  his  work  in  Jersey 
City.  Accordingly,  the  volume  opens  with  his  inaugural  discourse, 
preached  on  the  Sunday  following  his  ordination  ;  and  closes  with  the 
farewell  words  of  affectionate  counsel,  spoken  on  the  eve  of  of  his 
departure  from  the  flock  from  whom  no  power  but  that  of  his  im- 
pending death  could  sever  him.  The  eight  remaining  sermons 
are  arranged  in  chronological  order,  and  will  thus  exhibit  something 


X  Introduction. 

of  the  growth  of  his  mental  vigor,  and  of  his  Christian  experience, 
through  his  whole  ministry. 

2.  Of  course,  by  following  this  arrangement,  the  sermons  chosen 
are  of  unequal  merit.  Probably,  if  the  preacher  had  been  making 
a  selection  for  himself,  some  of  these  would  have  been  omitted  and 
others  of  greater  interest  and  value  added.  Probably,  also,  some 
immaturities  of  thought  and  infelicities  of  expression  in  the  earlier 
sermons,  might  have  revealed  themselves  to  his  critical  judgment, 
and  might  have  been  corrected.  But  the  alterations  which  the 
editor  of  this  volume  has  felt  at  liberty  to  make,  are  of  the  very 
slightest  importance.  It  was  thought  better  to  select  such  sermons 
as  were  specially  remembered  for  their  usefulness,  by  individuals  to 
whom  they  had  been  helpful,  and  such  as  were  noteworthy  by  reason 
of  their  occasional  character,  and  to  let  them  stand  as  they  were 
written.  They  will  thus  represent  the  average  excellence  of  the  min- 
istry which  resulted  in  such  singular  and  permanent  success.  One 
of  the  sermons,  "The  Pilgrim  Temple  Builders,"  has  been  already 
printed,  and  the  careful  foot-notes  by  which  the  statements  made  in 
it  are  fortified,  were  prepared  by  Mr.  Holmes'  own  hand.  The 
Pastoral  Letter  also,  which  is  included  in  this  volume  in  its  proper 
chronological  order,  was  printed  by  his  people  at  the  time  of  its 
receipt. 

3.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  call  attention  to  the  characteristic 
excellencies  of  the  sermons.  But  it  may  be  proper  to  notice  how 
full  they  are,  from  first  to  last,  of  timely  and  earnest  allusions  to  the 
events  of  national  importance  and  excitement,  by  which  the  minds 
and  hearts  of  men  were  stirred.  Mr.  Holmes'  ministry  at  Jersey 
City  began  in  the  spring  of  that  memorable  year  1861,  when  the 
uprising  of  the  nation  for  the  defense  of  its  liberty  and  unity  was  the 
all  absorbing  theme  of  thought  and  action.  It  was  with  irrepressible 
enthusiasm  and  vigor  that  he  threw  himself  into  that  great  cause, 

•and  made  his  pulpit  ring  with  words  of  manly  patriotism  and  zeal 
for  human  rights.  During  this  troubled  year,  he  was  almost  as 
much  a  soldier  as  a  preacher.  By  common  consent,  although  the 
youngest  of  the  clergymen  of  the  City,  he  was  recognised  as  the 
leader  of  them  in  patriotic  utterance  and  activity.  At  the  time  ot 
the  draft  riots  in  New  York  and  the  adjoining  cities,  he  was  a 
marked  man.  But  no  personal  peril  could  restrain  his  indignant 
and  courageous  '*  Witness  for  the  Truth."  There  is  a  story, 
credible  enough  to  those  that  knew  him,  that  on  one  or  two  occasions 
during  those  critical  three  days,  he  interfered  as  Moses  smote  the 
Egyptian,  with  fist  as  well  as  voice,  in  behalf  of  the  wronged  and 


Introduction.  xi 

outraged  poor.  But,  however  that  might  be,  there  never  was  a 
time  when  his  position  in  regard  to  public  affairs  was  for  a  moment 
doubtful.  As  was  well  said  in  one  of  the  biographical  notices 
called  forth  at  the  time  of  his  death  (we  quote  from  The  Evening 
Journal,  of  Jersey  City),  "  There  was  no  patriotic  service  which  he 
was  not  willing  to  render.  He  would  have  shouldered  a  musket 
and  gone  to  the  front,  as  a  private  soldier,  as  readily  as  the  most 
willing,  if  duty  had  pointed  that  way.  In  fact,  he  desired  to  go,  and 
would  have  gone,  if  he  had  not  been  hindered.  When  the  draft 
was  ordered  and  the  enrollment  was  begun,  the  enrolling  officer 
called  at  his  residence,  and  as  soon  as  he  made  his  business  known 
Mr.  Holmes  replied  *Put  me  down  as  John  Milton  Holmes, 
born  in  the  Island  of  Sheppy,  on  the  east  coast  of  England,  aged 
31  years,  able-bodied  and  willing.'  This  man,  with  the  seeds  of  a 
deadly  disease  already  planted  in  his  unconscious  breast,  was  eager 
to  be  counted  able-bodied  and  willing  when  his  country  called  for 
defenders.  No  thought  of  shielding  himself  by  his  sacred  calling 
occurred  to  him.  It  is  a  singular  fact  that  when  the  draft  was  made 
the  name  of  John  Milton  Holmes  was  the  first  one  drawn  from  the 
third  ward  list.  He  was  ready  to  respond,  very  anxious  to  go,  but 
his  church  and  his  friends,  judging  more  wisely  than  he,  overruled 
him  and  a  substitute  was  sent  for  him."  His  services  to  the  cause 
he  loved  so  well  were  worth  more  in  the  pulpit,  than  a  hundred 
men.  But  his  sympathy  with  the  men  in  the  field  was  always  deep 
and  active.  He  was  never  more  himself,  (as  the  editor  of  this  vol- 
ume can  bear  witness)  never  more  brimming  over  with  enthusiasm, 
with  fun,  with  tenderness  and  self-sacrifice,  than  when  he  spent  a 
fortnight  with  Sherman's  army  in  Georgia.  He  could  never  recall 
that  experience  without  intense  delight  at  having  had  some  share 
however  trivial,  in  army  life.  Indeed,  the  distinctively  religious 
success  of  his  ministry  in  Jersey  City  was  largely  due  to  the  fact 
that  his  patriotism  was  so  pronounced  and  genuine.  Men  who  were 
drawn  towards  him  by  his  manliness,  began  presently  to  be  drawn 
towards  God  by  his  Christlikeness. 

The  evidences  of  this  intense  and  constant  patriotic  earnestness 
are  apparent  in  almost  every  sermon.  His  illustrations  are  often, 
and  sometimes  almost  unconsciously,  taken  from  the  soldier's  life  or 
from  the  nation's  peril.  His  applications  of  truth  to  duty  are  made 
to  bear  with  practical  directness  upon  political  duty.  His  church 
would  have  been  a  place  of  great  discomfort  for  any  one  who, 
during  those  stormy  years,  had  any  latent  sympathy  with  treason  or 
with  slavery. 


xii  Introduction. 

The  result  proved,  with  sorrowful  distinctness,  that  Mr.  Holmes' 
intense  and  ceaseleas  interest  in  the  great  crisis  of  the  nation  and 
of  human  rights  was  as  a  consuming  fire  in  his  bones,  by  which  he 
was  himself  to  be  consumed.  After  the  tragical  close  of  the  war, 
when  the  reaction  from  the  great  excitement  came,  he  began  to  dis- 
cover how  tired  and  old  he  was.  In  calmer  years  his  ministry 
might  have  been  a  longer  one.  But  now,  in  his  jaded  and  ex- 
hausted state,  some  work  a  little  more  laborious  than  usual  was 
enough  to  bring  him  down.  His  church  had  grown  from  a  mere 
handful  to  be  the  largest  congregation  in  the  city,  and  to  occupy  a 
position  of  conspicuous  leadership  in  all  good  works.  He  began 
to  be  called  upon  for  work  outside  the  limits  of  his  parish,  and  to 
be  burdened  as  every  successful  minister  must  needs  be  burdened, 
with  many  cares  which  the  zeal  or  the  thoughtlessness  or  the  intru- 
siveness  of  others  heaped  upon  him.  His  generous  good  nature, 
his  ready  interest  in  every  one  and  every  thing  made  him  the  more 
easy  victim  of  such  over-work.  How  completely  he  was  broken 
by  it  was  not  apparent  until  after  he  had  begun  to  rest.  When  he 
started  on  his  voyage  after  health  and  strength,  it  was  with  the  con- 
fident hope  of  coming  back,  fully  equipped  again  for  the  work 
which  he  so  greatly  loved,  and  which  the  successes  of  past  years 
had  only  made  him  love  the  more.  But  his  few  months'  vacation 
lengthened  into  more  than  a  year,  and  when  he  returned,  a  brief 
experiment  convinced  him  that  his  work  was  done.  Reluctantly 
he  asked,  reluctantly  his  people  granted,  the  formal  sundering  of 
the  ties  which  bound  him  to  them  in  the  Pastoral  office.  But  how 
imijossible  it  was  to  separate  him  from  their  loving  attachment,  the 
generous  provision  which  they  made  for  him  during  the  remaining 
two  years  of  his  life  may  partly  serve  to  testify.  The  greater  part 
of  these  two  years  was  spent  among  his  kindred,  at  the  west,  where 
with  a  sick  man's  restlessness,  he  sought  by  change  of  scene  and 
change  of  air,  from  time  to  time,  the  health  which  nothing  could 
restore.  When,  at  last,  it  was  evident,  even  to  him,  that  the  end 
was  close  at  hand,  he  yearned  to  see  once  more  the  faces  of  his 
flock,  and  breathe  his  last  amid  the  scenes  of  his  life's  work  and  his 
life's  sacrifice.  With  tender  care,  but  with  great  difiiculty  and 
peril,  the  dying  man  was  brought  back  to  his  old  home ;  and  the 
few  days  which  remained  were,  to  him  and  to  his  friends,  like  days 
of  waiting  in  the  pleasant  land  of  Beulah,  in  that  allegory  of  John 
Bunyan  which  he  loved  so  much.  He  died,  September  20th,  187 1, 
aged  forty  years,  three  months  and  twenty-eight  days.  When 
he  was  buried,  the  great  Tabernacle  was  thronged  by  a  sorrowing 


Introduction.  xiii 

audience.  His  successor  in  the  Pastoral  office,  (The  Revd.  G.  B. 
Willcox,)  Revd.  Dr.  J.  P.  Thompson,  of  New  York  City  ;  Revd. 
W.  B.  Brown,  of  Newark ;  and  Revd.  George  B.  Bacon,  of  Orange 
Valley,  conducted  the  services.  His  tired  body  was  laid  to  rest 
in  Wood^awn  Cemetry.  His  widow  and  three  little  ones,  of 
whom  the  youngest  bears  his  father's  name,  remain  to  love  his 
memory,  and  to  learn,  with  the  increasing  years  of  loneliness,  the 
measure  of  their  loss. 

Of  the  two  commemorative  sermons  appended  to  the  volume, 
the  first  was  preached,  on  the  Sunday  following  Mr.  Holmes  death, 
in  the  Jersey  City  Tabernacle,  by  the  pastor,  Rev.  G.  B.  Willcox  ; 
and  the  other,  two  weeks  later,  in  the  same  place,  by  the  editor  of 
this  volume. 

The  preparation  of  this  volume  has  been  to  the  editor  a  pleasant 
task.  An  unbroken  friendship  of  almost  twenty  years,  growing 
constantly  more  intimate,  has  served  to  increase  my  admiration  for 
his  genius,  but  still  more  my  reverence  for  the  self-sacrificing  fidelity 
of  his  devotion  to  duty,  and  my  love  for  the  growing  sweetness  and 
beauty  of  his  soul.  Every  day  he  came  to  be  more  like  the  Master 
whom  he  served.  This  volume  does  not  represent  the  man,  but 
only  one  part  of  his  life  and  work.  Glimpses  of  his  fun  and  fancy, 
his  poetic  taste  and  skill  are  only  dimly  given.  If  it  were  possi- 
ble to  write  with  greater  freedom,  and  at  greater,  length  the  record 
of  his  life,  and  to  add  selections  from  his  familiar  letters,  it  would 
make  a  volume  of  the  liveliest  and  most  stimulating  interest.  He 
was  a  good  preacher.  He  was  a  sympathetic  and  successful  pastor. 
But,  most  of  all,  he  was  a  genuine  and  largely  gifted  Christian  man. 
The  history  of  the  man  deserves  to  be  written.  But  as  the  partial 
record  of  his  ministry,  it  is  believed  this  volume  justifies  the  title  I 
have  given  it,  "  A  Faithful  Ministry." 


GEORGE  B.  BACON. 


Parsonage,  Orange  Valley,  N.  J., 
June^  1872. 


THE    MINISTRY. 


THE    MINISTRY. 


"  And  I  thank  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord,  who  hath  enabled  me, 
for  that   he  counted  me  faithful,  putting  me   into   the  ministry." 

I  Tim.  i.    12. 

These  words  are  part  of  the  letter  which  Paul, 
an  apostle  of  Jesus  Christ,  wrote  to  Timothy, 
his  own  son  in  the  faith,  shortly  after  the  latter 
was  ordained  as  minister  of  the  first  Congrega- 
tional church  in  Ephesus.  Timothy  was  a  young 
man,  set  over  a  large  church,  under  circumstan- 
ces of  peculiar  difficulty.  Some  of  the  church 
members  were  men  who  had  grown  rich  by 
traffic  and  by  handicraft,  and  were  now  high- 
minded  and  covetous.  Some,  on  the  other  hand. 
Were  poor  slaves,  whose  bondage  was  to  be 
softened  by  the  merciful  spirit  of  the  Gospel. 
There  was  great  ignorance  of  the  way'  of  sal- 
vation. Some  placed  their  reliance  upon  bodily 
exercises,   some    gave   heed   to   seducing    spirits, 


4  Sermons, 

and,  like  the  Romish  church,  attached  great 
importance  to  abstinence  and  celibacy.  There 
were  some  awful  cases  of  backsliding  and  utter 
shipwreck,  of  whom  were  Hymeneus  and  Alex- 
ander. Some  weak  brethren  were  by  far  too 
fond  of  endless  discussion  and  vain  janglings. 
Some  of  the  female  members  seem  to  have 
forgotten  the  modesty  appropriate  to  their  sex, 
and  bartered  the  heavenly  ornament  of  a  meek 
and  quiet  spirit  for  gold  and  pearls  and  costly 
array. 

There  was  an  endowed  institution  for  the 
widows  of  the  church,  which  demanded  constant 
supervision.  There  was  the  usual  pastoral  round 
of  preaching,  teaching,  and  visiting  ;  and^  beside 
this,  Timothy  must  pay  particular  attention  to 
reading  and  the  study  of  doctrine.  To  crown 
the  embarrassments  of  his  position,  the  inex- 
perienced pastor  was  the  successor  of  the  apostle 
Paul,  who  had  for  three  years  preached  at 
Ephesus  with  wonderful  success,  teaching  from 
house  to  house,  arguing  in  the  synagogues, 
healing  the  sick,  yet  finding  time  to  support 
himself  by  tent-making ;  endearing  himself  so 
much  to  the  people  of  his  charge,  that  when 
after  awhile  he  paid  them  a  hurried  visit,  they 
all  wept  sore,  and  fell  on  Paul's  neck  and 
kissed  him,  sorrowing  most  of  all  for  the  words 


The  Ministry,  5 

which  he  spake,  that  they  should  see  his  face 
no  more.  It  was  no  small  responsibility  for 
Timothy  to  take  charge  of  such  a  church,  after 
such  a  man.  How  encouragingly  the  words 
which  I  have  quoted  must  have  fallen  on  the 
young  preacher's  heart,  as  he  shrank  from  the 
anxieties  of  his  new  vocation !  How  he  must 
have  leaped  forward  with  fresh  energy  and 
faith,  as  he  thought  of  the  labors,  the  trials 
the  perils,  the  responsibilities,  the  persecutions 
of  him  whom  he  loved  to  call  his  father ;  who 
now,  after  a  weary  imprisonment  at  Rome,  in- 
stead of  desponding  and  dissuading,  exclaims 
with  the  clarion  voice  of  joy,  "  I  thank  Christ 
Jesus  our  Lord,  who  hath  enabled  me,  for  that 
he  counted  me  faithful,  putting  me  into  the 
ministry." 

It  seems  appropriate  that  as  I  stand  here,  for 
the  first  time,  as  pastor  of  this  church;  for  the 
first  time  feeling  the  full  responsibility  of  the 
watch  and  care  of  souls ;  beginning  to-day,  in 
earnest,  that  life-work  for  which  I  have  been  so 
long  yearning  and  preparing — it  seems  appro- 
priate that  I  should,  to-day,  give  some  expres- 
sion of  my  deep  thankfulness  to  my  Savior, 
and  present  to  you  some  reflection  of  my  own 
idea  of  what  this  life-work  is  to  be — what  this 
ministry    is    into  which   I    trust    the    Lord   has 


6  Sermons. 

put  me,  and  what  should  be  its  characteristics, 
What  was  Paul's  idea  of  the  ministry  ?  In 
the  preceding  verse  we  can  obtain  a  compre- 
hensive answer ;  it  is  the  trusteeship  of  the 
glorious  gospel  of  the  blessed  God.  And  what 
is  this  glorious  gospel  of  the  blessed  God  ?  It 
is  the  God-spell,  the  "glad-tidings."  From  whom 
do  the  glad-tidings  come  "i  From  God,  the  foun- 
tain of  blessedness.  For  whom  are  the  tidings 
sent .''  An  angel  answers,  "  Fear  not,  for  behold, 
I  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy,  which 
shall  be  to  all  people."  Of  what  do  these  glad 
tidings  consist }  "  It  is  a  faithful  saying,  and 
worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ  Jesus  came 
into  the  world  to  save  sinners."  And  who 
is  there  in  heaven  or  earth  that  can  execute  so 
vast  and  sublime  an  undertaking .?  I  have  already 
answered  "  Jesus."  ''  Thou  shalt  call  His  name 
Jesus,  for  He  shall  save  His  people  from  their 
sins."  But  none  can  forgive  sins  save  God 
only !  Jesus  is  God.  He  is  the  brightness  of 
the  Father's  glory  and  the  express  image  of  His 
person.  "  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word,  and 
the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word  was 
God.^'  How  then  was  he  born  in  Bethlehem  } 
"  The  Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us, 
(and  we  beheld  his  glory,  the  glory  as  of  the 
only   begottqn   of  the  Father),  full   of  grace    and 


The  Ministry.  7 

truth."  But  this  is  a  very  mysterious  doctrine? 
Yes,  "  without  controversy,  great  is  the  mystery 
of  godliness.  God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh,  jus- 
tified in  the  spirit,  seen  of  angels,  preached  unto 
the  Gentiles,  believed  on  in  the  world,  received  up 
into  glory."  What  was  the  immediate  object  of 
the  divine  incarnation }  It  was  to  suffer  and  die. 
Was  this  necessary  t  It  was ;  "  and  without 
shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission."  Does  the 
shedding  of  blood  appease  the  divine  wrath } 
No.  "  For  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  He 
gave  His  only  begotten  Son "  for  its  redemption. 
Why  was  the  sacrifice  of  His  Son  necessary  ? 
Whether  necessary  or  not  the  Bible  reveals  it 
as  a  fact.  But  can  you  give  no  reason  why  it 
was  necessary.^  It  was  necessary  to  remove  ob- 
stacles in  the  way  of  pardon.  It  was  necessary, 
first,  to  maintain  the  authority  and  integrity 
of  government.  Secondly,  it  was  necessary  in 
order  that  God  might  be  just,  and  yet  forgive 
offenders.  Thirdly,  it  was  necessary  in  order 
to  provide  for  the  reformation  of  the  guilty  who 
are  pardoned.  Fourthly,  to  secure  the  rights  of 
the  community  of  the  universe.  Fifthly,  to  give 
a  proper  expression  to  the  character  of  the 
Law-giver.  But  this  is  abstruse  and  metaphysi- 
cal ;  can  you  not  give  us  your  idea  of  the 
atonement  in  a  Bible  nut-shell  t     I  can.     **  Being 


8  Sermons, 

justified  freely  by  his  grace,  through  the  re- 
demption that  is  in  Christ  Jesus :  whom  God 
hath  set  forth  to  be  a  propitiation,  through  faith 
in  His  blood,  to  declare  His  righteousness  for 
the  remission  of  sins  that  are  past,  through  the 
forbearance  of  God ;  to  declare,  I  say,  at  this 
time  His  righteousness  :  that  He  might  be  just, 
and  the  justifier  of  him  which  believeth  in 
Jesus."  This  passage  is  a  Biblical  system  of 
Theology.  It  is  the  substance  of  the  glorious 
gospel   of   the  blessed   God. 

But  an  objector  may  say,  Is  the  atonement  the 
only  doctrine  of  the  Gospel }  I  answer,  it  includes 
all  other  doctrines.  It  is  the  point  where  all  the 
radii  center.  The  Gospel  resembles  the  picture  by 
the  Dusseldorf  painter,  of  the  Adoration  of  the 
Magi,  in  which  all  the  light  radiates  from  the  glory 
around  the  brow  of  Christ.  The  atonement  in- 
volves the  doctrine  of  human  guilt,  for,  "if  one  died 
for  all,  then  were  all  dead."  It  involves  the  doc- 
trine of  election,  for  if  God  provided  a  way  of  sal- 
vation for  men,  then  he  always  had  a  plan  to  save 
them.  It  involves  the  doctrine  of  conversion,  for 
the  atonement  only  removes  obstacles  in  the  way 
of  pardoning  the  repentant.  It  involves  the  doc- 
trine of  santification,  for,  "if  when  we  were 
enemies,  we  were  reconciled  to  God  by  the  death 
of  His  Son ;  much  more,  being  reconciled,  we  shall 
be  saved  by  His  life." 


The  Ministry.  9 

But  is  this  what  Paul  understood  by  the  ministry 
of  the  Gospel  ?  It  is.  He  continually  speaks  of 
it  as  the  Gospel  of  Christ ;  and  in  his  letter  to  the 
Galatians,  he  exclaims  with  the  greatest  earnest- 
ness, "  Though  we,  or  an  angel  from  heaven,  preach 
any  other  Gospel  unto  you  than  that  which  we 
have  preached  unto  you,  let  him  be  accursed." 
The  first  time  we  hear  of  his  preaching,  he  spake 
boldly  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  straight- 
way preached  Christ  in  the  synagogues,  that  He 
is  the  Son  of  God.  Twenty  years  afterwards  he 
writes  to  the  Church  at  Corinth,  '*  We  preach  not 
ourselves,  but  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord."  Thirty-two 
years  afterwards,  the  Lord  Jesus  was  the  star  of  his 
hope  in  the  Roman  dungeon ;  and  he  tells  Timothy 
of  a  crown  which  Jesus  shall  place  upon  his  martyr 
brow,  in  the  day  of  His  appearing. 

These  ideas  of  the  Gospel  which  were  the  guid- 
ing lights  of  Paul's  ministerial  career,  I  have,  after 
appropriate  investigation,  incorporated  into  my 
own  convictions.  My  great  desire  and  aim  will 
be  to  preach  Christ  and  Him  crucified ;  often  indeed 
with  great  plainness  of  speech,  but  always  I  trust 
with  earnestness,  affectionateness,  and  sincerity. 
I  shall  love  to  present  to  you  the  gospel  as  being 
in  reality  "  glad  tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall 
be  to  all  people."  I  cannot  preach,  for  I  cannot 
believe  in  a  salvation  which  is  limited  in  its  design 


10  Sermons, 

to  an  aristocracy  of  grace.  I  believe  that  Christ 
was  in  earnest,  when  he  said,  "  Come  unto  me,  all 
ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest."  There  are  no  glad  tidings  which  shall 
be  to  all  people,  in  an  invitation. which  mocks  the 
hope  of  half  the  race.  If  a  martyr  had  been  im- 
prisoned by  God  for  the  space  of  a  hundred  years, 
as  an  atonement  for  sin,  I  could  well  believe  that  it 
was  not  intended  to  be  universal  in  its  application. 
If  an  angel  had  voluntarily  accej^ted  the  scourge, 
the  spear,  the  malefactor's  cross,  as  a  vicarious 
redeemer,  I  could  well  imagine  that  this  could  not 
atone  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  of  the  human  family. 
But  when  I  think  of  the  Redeemer  as  the  very  God 
of  very  God,  bowing  the  heavens  to  bless  the  earth, 
laying  down  the  sceptre  of  everlasting  sovereignty, 
and  emptying  himself  of  attributes  which  had 
evoked  the  praises  of  an  adoring  universe,  that  He 
might  become  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death 
of  the  cross ;  then  I  must  believe  that  this  magni- 
ficence of  mercy  was  intended  not  for  Jew  or  Greek 
or  for  any  one  class  of  men,  but  for  the  wide,  wide 
world  ;  that  "  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  He 
gave  His  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  be- 
lieveth  in  Him,  should  not  perish,  but  have  ever- 
lasting life."  I  love  to  think  that  Christ  died  for 
all ;  that  Christ  died  for  the  millionaire  and  for  the 
beggar ;   for  the   king  and  for  the  slave ;   for  the 


The  Ministry.  li 

black  and  for  the  white  ;  for  the  young  and  for  the 
old ;  for  all  tribes  and  kindreds  and  peoples  and 
tongues,  in  all  the  past  and  future  centuries  of 
time.  This  is  indeed  glad  tidings  which  might 
make  the  whole  world  break  forth  into  singing. 
Henceforward  let  there  be  an  emphatic  meaning 
in  the  hymn, 

"Joy  to  the  world,  the  Lord  is  come. 
Let  earth  receive  her  king." 

I  love  to  think  of  religion  as  a  system  of  glad- 
ness, as  imbued  with  the  strength  of  holy  joy ;  as 
giving  a  heavenly  ornament  to  all  the  happiness  of 
earth ;  as  making  friendship  stronger ;  as  infusing 
tenderness  into  domestic  love;  as  brightening 
nature  with  the  smile  of  God ;  as  giving  hope  in 
poverty  and  destitution  ;  as  drying  the  tears  of  the 
bereaved  ;  as  forgiving  the  sins  of  the  repentant ;  as 
making  the  Sabbath  a  holy  festival  commemorating 
the  ascension  of  Christ ;  as  rendering  prayer  a 
visit  to  heaven;  as  causing  the  heart  to  bound 
because  God  is  King;  as  teaching  that  the  true 
and  right  must  ultimately  triumph  ;  not  as  veiling 
the  church  with  gloom,  oh  no !  but  as  kindling  the 
eye  and  wreathing  the  lip  with  contagious  smiles ; 
as  making  God's  statutes  our  songs  in  the  house  of 
our  pilgrimage.  It  is  a  sweet  work  to  be  the  mes- 
senger of  good  tidings,  to  be  the  herald  of  the  minis- 
try of  gladness.     It  is  sweet  to  the  listener.     It  is 


1 2  Sermons. 

sweet  to  the  ambassador.  The  apostle  Paul  quot- 
ing from  Isaiah,  applies  to  ministers  of  the  Gospel 
a  verse  which  represents  a  mourner,  amid  the  ruins 
of  Jerusalem  laid  low  by  war,  seeing  the  heralds 
on  the  distant  hills  running  and  shouting  the  news 
of  peace.  "As  it  written,  How  beautiful  upon  the 
mountains  are  the  feet  of  Him  that  bringeth  good 
tidings,  that  publisheth  peace ;  that  bringeth  good 
tidings  of  good,  that  publisheth  salvation ;  that  saith 
unto  Zion,  Thy  God  reigneth." 

And  I  thank  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord  who  hath 
enabled  me,  for  that  He  counted  me  faithful,  putting 
me  into  such  a  ministry. 

If  we  examine  the  text  with  more  attention,  we 
shall  find  that  the  Gospel  ministry  is  distinguished 
either  expressly  or  impliedly,  by  certain  prominent 
characteristics. 

I.  This  ministry  must  be  a  faithful  ministry.  I 
thank  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord  for  that  He  counted 
me  faithful.  Elsewhere  Paul  calls  himself  a  ser- 
vant, and  that  is  the  radical  idea  of  the  word 
minister.  The  original  gives  us  the  primary  sense 
of  ministry,  a  humble  and  toilsome  service,  as 
of  a  servant  running  even  through  the  dust. 
In  another  place  Paul  counts  himself  a  slave  and 
speaks  of  the  bonds  of  the  Gospel.  Yet  again  he 
speaks  of  himself  as  the  legate  of  the  skies,  "  we 
then  as  ambassadors  for  Christ."     In  the  passage 


The  Ministry.  13 

before  us,  he  evidently  considers  himself  a  steward. 
To  the  Corinthians  he  says,  "Let  a  man  so  account 
of  us,  as  of  the  ministers  of  Christ,  and  stewards 
of  the  mysteries  of  God.  Moreover,  it  is  required 
of  stewards,  that  a  man  be  found  faithful." 

What  then  is  to  be  understood  by  a  faithful 
minister  t  The  main  requirement  evidently  is,  that 
a  minister  shall  proclaim  the  Gospel  of  Christ  in 
all  its  purity  and  fullness.  The  truths  which  he 
utters  may  indeed  excite  the  hostility  of  sinful 
men,  but  the  spirit  should  continually  be  that  of 
love.  For  example,  if  I  believe  that  the  Scriptures 
teach  the  just  punishment  of  those  who  on  earth 
reject,  of  their  own  free  will,  God's  universal  offer 
of  pardoning  mercy,  then,  if  I  am  faithful,  I  shall 
proclaim  that  truth  in  its  proper  place  and  propor- 
tion. I  may  do  it  with  sensibilities  which  feel  a 
pang  as  keen  as  yours ;  I  may  do  it  with  great 
heaviness  and  continual  sorrow  in  my  heart,  wish- 
ing that  myself  were  accursed  instead  of  you  ;  but 
if  I  am  faithful  I  must  blow  the  trumpet-blast  of 
warning. 

It  may  sometimes  be  necessary  for  the  faithful 
minister  to  oppose  your  beliefs,  your  prejudices, 
your  habits,  your  occupations,  your  tastes,  your 
views  of  what  preaching  ought  to  be.  If  such  a 
collision  should  arise,  must  the  preacher  follow  the 
beck  of  his  love  of  approbation,  or  the  golden  rule 


14  Sermons, 

of  duty  ?  He  must  say  with  Paul,  *'  But  with  me 
it  is  a  very  small  thing  that  I  should  be  judged  of 
you,  or  of  man's  judgment ;  yea,  I  judge  not  mine 
own  self     But  he  that  judgeth  me  is  the  Lord." 

Such  collisions  may  arise ;  but  it  is  the  part  of 
faithfulness,  as  I  conceive  it,  to  avoid  them  if  pos- 
sible. Not  to  dilute  the  truth,  nor  to  withhold  it ; 
far,  far  be  that  from  me ;  but  so  to  present  the  liv- 
ing, saving  principles  of  the  Gospel  as  least  to 
offend  the  prejudices  of  the  hearer,  and  most  to  be 
effective  in  the  mission  of  winning  the  minds  and 
souls  of  men  to  Christ.  It  seems  to  me  the  dictate 
of  common  sense,  that  in  wielding  the  sword  of 
the  Spirit,  one  should  use  the  edge  and  not  the 
back ;  that  in  the  pulpit  one  should  recognize  the 
same  rules  of  rhetoric  and  logic  as  are  used  in  the 
forum,  and  in  the  courts  of  justice.  For  example, 
it  is  of  the  first  importance  in  a  secular  assembly 
to  secure  the  good  will  and  the  attention  of  the 
audience.  Is  not  this  equally  important  in  the 
sanctuary }  Paul  certainly  thought  so,  and  adapted 
himself  to  his  occasion.  He  praised  the  good 
qualities  which  he  saw  in  a  heathen  congregation. 
At  Athens  he  quoted  from  the  poetry  of  the 
Greeks.  At  Jerusalem  he  did  not  come  out 
bluntly  with  the  great  principle  that  the  Gospel 
was  meant  for  the  Gentile  as  well  as  the  Jew, 
which  would   only  have    exasperated   those   who 


The  Ministry.  1 5 

claimed  to  be  God's  peculiar  people.  But,  apostle 
to  the  Gentiles  as  he  was  (and  he  magnified  his 
office),  he  exclaimed  to  them  (and  he  spake  in  the 
Hebrew  tongue,  the  sacred  language  of  the  Jews, 
instead  of  the  Greek  with  which  they  were  all 
familiar),  "I  am  verily  a  man  which  am  a  Jew,  born 
in  Tarsus,  a  city  in  Cilicia,  yet  brought  up  in  this 
city  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  and  taught  according  to 
the  perfect  manner  of  the  law  of  the  fathers,  and 
was  zealous  toward  God,  as  ye  all  are  this  day." 
What  wisdom !  What  care  to  win  the  favor  and 
disarm  the  prejudices  of  his  hearers!  This  must 
be  what  he  meant  by  becoming  all  things  to  all 
men,  that  he  might  by  all  means  save  some. 

Then,  when  the  preacher,  trusting  in  the  divine 
blessing,  has  used  all  the  legitimate  instruments  of 
persuasion  and  conviction  to  win  men  from  error  in 
belief  or  practice, — then  he  must  stand  like  a  rock ! 
Let  the  winds  blow ;  let  the  storm  beat.  There 
let  him  stand  while  the  waves  break  upon  him. 
Rather  than  yield  one  iota  of  the  truth,  let  him  die. 

If  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  is  not  faithful,  where 
then  shall  we  look  for  faithfulness }  When  the 
British  invaded  Virginia,  a  slave  at  Monticello, 
belonging  to  Jefferson,  took  his  master's  valuables, 
and  at  the  risk  of  starvation,  guarded  them  under 
the  portico  until  the  foe  had  disappeared.  That 
was   right.     The  captain  of  a  man-of-war  in  th^ 


%6  Simons, 

.presence  of  a  superior  foe,  defends  the  flag  of  free- 
dom when  the  guns  are  disabled,  and  the  hull  rid- 
dled with  shot  holes  ;  and  when  death  is  pouring  in 
at  every  seam  and  he  himself  is  mortally  wounded, 
exclaims  with  his  last  breath,  **  Don't  give  up  the 
ship  !"  That  is  right.  The  integrity  of  our  govern- 
ment is  violated,  and  the  great  legacy  of  law  and 
liberty  which  we  received  from  our  fathers,  is  in 
peril,  and  a  million  of  men  arise  in  battle  array  to 
guard  the  sacred  trust.     This  is  right. 

But  the  minister  entrusted  with  the  glorious 
Gospel  of  the  blessed  God,  is  the  guardian  of  the 
liberty  of  the  sons  of  God.  He  is  to  contend 
earnestly  for  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints  ; 
he  is  to  defend  the  church  of  Christ  from  the 
attacks  of  all  her  enemies.  If  he  is  not  faithful, 
the  blood,  not  of  bodies,  but  of  souls  will  be  re- 
quired of  him.  Nations  may  soar  to  the  zenith  of 
their  glory,  and  die  like  meteors  in  the  winter  air : 
but  the  soul  of  man  is  coeval  with  the  life  of  God. 
What  shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  shall  gain  the 
whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  When  I  think 
of  such  a  responsibility,  I  tremble.  Oh  !  that  I 
might  be  accounted  a  faithful  minister  of  the  New 
Testament;  faithful  in  preaching,  faithful  in  ex- 
ample ;  that  when  my  life  work  is  finished  it  might 
be  said,  above  my  grave,  what  was  said  so  smoothly 
of  another^  that — 


The  Ministry.  17 

In  his  duty  prompt  at  every  call, 

He  watched  and  wept ;  he  prayed  and  felt  for  all ; 

And  as  a  bird  each  fond  endearment  tries 

To  tempt  its  new-fledged  offspring  to  the  skies, 

He  tried  each  art,  reproved  each  dull  delay, 

Allured  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  way. 

II.  I  remark  in  the  next  place  that  if  the 
ministry  is  a  faithful  ministry,  we  may  expect 
it,    secondly,  to   be   an   able  ministry. 

I  thank  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord  who  hath  en- 
abled me.  To  whatever  portion  of  the  sphere 
of  duty  we  turn  our  eyes,  we  shall  perceive 
that  the  ability  of  the  ministry  comes  from 
Christ.  I  do  not  mean  simply  that  every  good 
and  perfect  gift  comes  from  Him,  but  that  in 
addition  to  this  obvious  sense  there  must  be  a 
special  manifestation  of  the  divine  grace,  flow- 
ing out  of  a  personal  experience  of  the  blessings 
of  the  gospel.  The  stream  can  rise  no  higher 
than  the  fountain  head.  If  the  fountain  is  not 
far  above  the  ambition,  the  strength,  the  joy  of 
the  world,  then  the  streams  of  Zion  will  soon 
be  dry.  In  parish  life,  in  pulpit  life,  in  study 
life,  the  strength  of  God  must  be  as  constant 
and  as  vital  as  the  fresh  air.  When  called 
upon  to  sympathize  with  the  family  who  are 
weeping  by  the  grave  of  hope,  and  give  the  only 
consolation  which  can  touch  the  heart ;  to  visit 
the   bedside  of  one  who  has  long  been  sick  and 


1 8  Sermons. 

make  that  afflicted  one  feel  the  blessedness  of 
affliction,  the  glory  of  patient  endurance  and  the 
joy  of  acquiescence  in  the  will  of  God  ;  to  meet 
a  conscientious  person  in  doubt  concerning  some 
momentous  decision,  and  give  appropriate  coun- 
sel ;  to  guide  the  inquiring  penitent  to  the  cross, 
showing  him  just  the  difficulty  in  his  peculiar 
circumstances  ;  to  harmonize  the  different  shades 
of  belief,  character,  disposition,  and  experience, 
which  are  always  discoverable  even  in  a  small 
church ;  to  fuse  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow 
into  pure  white  light  to  illume  the  world  ; 
above  all  things,  to  set  an  example  worthy  of 
the  flock — to  be  genial  without  being  frivolous  ;  to 
be  faithful  without  being  bigoted ;  to  be  earnest 
and  not  fanatical  ;  self-reliant,  but  not  vain ;  en- 
ergetic, but  always  judicious  ;  to  have  a  fitting 
sense  of  the  responsibility  of  souls,  without  being 
gloomy  ;  to  hold  a  calm  serenity  of  trust,  even 
in  the  midst  of  misunderstanding,  prejudice  or 
capricious  opposition,  saying,  *' surely  my  judg- 
ment is  with  the  Lord,"  and  waiting  for  the 
final  audit  to  show  that  he  is  free  from  the 
blood  of  all  men.  All  this  surely  requires,  in 
one  whom  Christ  enables  for  His  ministry,  the 
fullness  of  a  personal  experience  of  constant 
communion  with  the  great  source  of  strength 
and  life. 


The  Ministry.  19 

According  to  the  Greek  mythology,  when 
Hercules  wrestled  with  Anteus,  he  could  not 
master  him.  Anteus  was  small  and  Hercules 
was  large.  Anteus  was  puny,  Hercules  was  re- 
nowned for  invincible  strength.  Yet  Hercules 
was  baffled,  because  his  opponent  was  all  the 
while  receiving  thrills  of  strength  from  his 
mother  earth.  So  long  as  he  touched  the  earth, 
he  was  strong  and  safe.  Hercules  at  last  suc- 
ceeded in  lifting  him  up  in  the  air,  and  then 
Anteus  in  his  own  unaided  strength  was  unable 
to  resist  the  death .  grip  of  the  conqueror.  What 
the  earth  was  to  Anteus,  heaven  is  to  the 
Christian  minister ;  thence  he  derives  his  daily 
strength,  and  exclaims  calmly,  I  can  do  all 
things  through  Christ  strengthening  me. 

When  the  minister  turns  from  the  duties  of 
the  week  to  the  public  ministration  of  the  Sab- 
bath, he  can  do  nothing  without  Christ.  He 
may  please  the  ear,  gratify  the  taste,  store  the 
memory  with  valuable  information,  convince  the 
understanding,  kindle  the  sensibilities,  but  he 
cannot  convert  the  soul.  This  is  the  preroga- 
tive of  God.  Paul  must  have  been  an  eloquent 
preacher  to  have  won  the  plaudits  of  the 
Athenians ;  but  we  hear  Paul  saying,  "  I  was 
with  you  in  weakness,  and  in  fear,  and  in  much 
trembling.     And   my    speech    and   my   preaching 


20  Sermons, 

was  not  with  enticing  words  of  man's  wisdom, 
but  in  demonstration  of  the  Spirit,  and  of 
power." 

Intellectual  qualifications  of  themselves  are  in- 
sufficient. They  are,  indeed,  a  strong,  sharp 
weapon,  but  God  must  wield  the  sword.  If  we 
look  abroad  through  the  world,  to  find  the  min- 
istry which  is  most  successful  in  winning  souls 
to  Christ,  I  think  we  shall  not  always  find  it 
among  men  of  highest  genius  and  greatest  learn- 
ing. You  will  find  most  real  good  accomplished 
by  men  of  fair,  average  ability,  whose  love  to 
Christ  is  a  consuming  fire.  Dr.  Chalmers  surely 
was  an  able  minister,  but  he  gladly  confesses 
the  secret  of  his  strength.  He  relates  that  in 
his  earlier  ministry  he  plied  his  congregation 
with  enthusiastic  discourses  on  the  moral  virtues, 
and  made  it  his  chief  labor  thus  to  effect  a 
reformation  of  their  morals.  They  loved  the 
preacher,  and  were  charmed  with  the  magic  of 
his  eloquence,  but  they  did  not  reform.  He  at 
length  felt  the  hollowness  of  such  preaching, 
and  was  brought  to  the  cross  for  pardon  and 
peace.  He  at  once  altered  the  whole  plan  of 
his  discourses.  In  place  of  splendid  moral  essays, 
he  began  to  preach  clearly  and  fervidly  on  sin, 
guilt,  and  retribution  ;  on  spiritual  regeneration, 
repentance,    faith,   and    holy    living.     Multitudes 


The  Ministry.  2i 

were  awakened  and  converted ;  and  not  only 
so,  but  there  was  a  thorough,  wide-spread  and 
permanent  reformation  of  morals.  Hencefor- 
ward like  Paul,  his  glory  and  his  strength 
were  in  the  cross  of  Christ.  Here  then  we 
have  the  idea  of  an  able  ministry.  It  is  not 
the  fascination  of  genius  or  the  spoils  of  learn* 
ing,  or  deep  insight  into  human  nature,  or  the 
contagious  power  of  personal  influence.  Any  or 
all  of  these  may  be  consecrated  to  God.  But 
the  ablest  ministry  is  that  which  best  accom- 
plishes the  end  for  which  the  ministry  was 
estabUshed  ;  which  best  feeds  the  flock  of  Christ, 
building  them  up  in  the  most  holy  faith ;  which 
best  points  out  the  way  of  salvation  to  the 
lost,  turning  many  to  ^righteousness.  Christ's 
ambassador  must  be  able  most  truly  to  say 
with  the  great  master  and  exemplar  of  his 
ministry,  "The  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me, 
because  He  hath  annointed  me  to  preach  the 
Gospel  to  the  poor ;  He  hath  sent  me  to  heal 
the  broken-hearted,  to  preach  deliverance  to  the 
captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to  the  blind, 
to  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised,  to 
preach   the   acceptable   year   of  the  Lord." 

HI.  In  the  third  and  last  place>  the  text 
implies  that  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel  should 
be  a  thankful   ministry.     "I    thmik  Christ  Jesus 


22  Sermons. 

our  Lord."  Omitting,  for  want  of  time,  the  pe- 
culiar reasons  for  thankfulness  in  the  experience 
of  Paul,  I  wish  to  present  to  you  in  brief,  some 
personal  reasons  for  the  gratitude  which  I  feel 
to-day,  in  consummating  my  relationship  with 
you  as  your  pastor.  I  am  sure  that  under  the 
circumstances  there  will  be  no  indelicacy  in 
so  doing.  The  successful  completion  of  any  im- 
portant enterprise  is  always  a  cause  for  thank- 
fulness. When  Robert  Fulton,  after  long  years 
of  toil,  anxiety,  and  hope  deferred,  at  length 
actually  saw  and  sailed  on  the  Clermont  as  it 
glided  swiftly  and  gracefully  up  the  North  river, 
against  current  and  wind,  it  was  the  happiest 
hour  of  his  life.  When  Isaac  Newton  had  nearly 
completed  that  long "  and  intricate  calculation 
which  established  the  laws  of  gravitation  ;  when 
he  saw,  with  the  glance  of  genius,  that  he  was 
right  and  all  the  ages  had  been  wrong,  he  was 
so  overcome  that  he  was  obliged  to  suspend 
the  concluding  work,  and  give  vent  to  his 
feelings  in  gratitude  and  praise  to  God.  And 
as  I  stand  to-day  and  look  back  upon  my  past 
experience,  and  see  the  way  in  which  my  God 
has  led  me,  I  can  trace  with  joy,  at  every  step, 
the  working  of  His  guiding  hand  preparing  me 
for  this  sacred  hour.  Born  across  the  waters, 
on  a  far  distant  shore,  and  carried  when  a  little 


The  Ministry.  23 

child  into  the  heart  of  New  England  to  drink 
from  Massachusetts  fountains  the  sacred  waters 
of  freedom,  intelligence,  and  religion ;  early  in- 
structed in  my  obligations  to  God  by  the 
teaching  and  the  example  of  pious  parents,  one 
of  whom  is  still  a  missionary  gf  the  cross,  and 
the  other  exalted  to  be  an  angel  in  heaven  ; 
obliged  when  yet  a  boy  to  leave  home  and  seek 
my  fortune,  I  knew  not  whither,  often  in  cir- 
cumstances of  bitter  privation  and  friendless- 
ness — God  has  always  cared  for  me.  He  raised 
up  angels  of  deliverance.  He  opened  doors  of 
light  when  all  was  solid  dark.  With  an  intense 
desire  to  obtain  an  education,  it  had  been  my 
dream,  ever  since  I  was  old  enough  to  hope, 
that  I  might  go  to  Yale  College.  I  went  there 
without  academical  preparation,  without  means, 
without  any  reasonable  prospect  of  success.  But 
God  led  me  by  a  way  I  knew  not,  and  trans- 
lated my  dreams  into  reality.  When,  in  my 
ignorance  and  waywardness,  I  did  not  acknowl- 
edge God's  sovereign  care  and  love,  when  I 
was  seeking  only  earthly  gratification,  and  was 
without  hope  and  without  God  in  the  world. 
He  sweetly  drew  my  Wandering  will,  and  shewed 
me  the  blessedness  of  sins  forgiven  through  the 
sacrifice  of  Christ.  He  enabled  me  to  record 
as  the    expression    of  my  hope,   these   words  of 


24  Sermons. 

consecration :  ''  O  Lord  God,  I  believe  Thou 
lovest  me,  and  I  love  Thee  in  a  feeble  way 
indeed.  I  desire  to  love  Thee  supremely.  I 
desire  communion  with  Thee,  and  take  courage 
through  the  life  and  death  of  Christ.  O  God, 
I  dedicate  mysejf  to  Thee.  I  will  love  Thee, 
serve  Thee,  trust  Thee,  praise  Thee,  glorify  Thee, 
in  my  body  and  in  my  soul,  now  in  this  life 
and  the  life  that  is  to  come.  Oh,  help  me  thus 
to  do  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ." 

Gradually  my  tastes  and  desires  pointed  towar4 
the  ministry,  and  I  gave  up  the  study  of  the  law, 
which  had  greatly  attracted  me.  Every  kind 
of  obstacle  and  impediment  has  been  removed, 
by  God's  blessing  upon  my  strong  endeavors,  and 
I  stand  here  to-day,  a  living  witness  of  God's  pre- 
serving and  redeeming  mercy,  testifying  with  the 
apostle  of  old,  "  Unto  me,  who  am  less  than  the 
least  of  all  saints,  is  this  grace  given>  that  I  should 
preach  among  the  Gentiles  the  unsearchable  riches 
of  Christ." 

I  am  thankful  for  the  opportunities  which  are 
presented  in  the  ministry  for  the  quickening  of  the 
intellect ;  for  its  discipline  by  conflict  with  error, 
and  communion  with  great  minds  and  everlasting 
truths.  I  am  thankful  for  the  wide  fields  of  in- 
fluence in  which  I  can  minister  to  the  sorrows  and 
sufferings   of   humanity.     I  am   thankful  for  the 


The  Ministry,  25 

social  sympathies  which  cluster  around  me  con- 
tinually ;  that  I  am  welcomed  into  a  realm  of  love, 
which,  in  the  midst  of  worldly  selfishness  and 
uproar,  lies  embosomed  like  an  isle  of  the  blessed 
in  an  ocean  of  storm. 

I  am  thankful  that  my  ministry  has  fallen  to  me 
in  these  blessed  and  eventful  times,  when  the 
nations  are  in  training  for  the  great  battle  of  God 
Almighty — when  I  can  preach  the  glorious  Gospel 
in  all  its  adaptations  to  business,  to  government, 
to  wars,  to  freedom,  to  slavery,  and  a  host  of 
kindred  topics  whose  greatness  is  itself  an  in^ 
spiration. 

I  am  thankful  that  my  lot  has  been  cast  in  a  city; 
a  city  throbbing  with  the  life-blood  of  the  metropo- 
lis of  America,  with  its  great  fields  of  usefulness 
where  immortal  men  stand  thick  as  the  ripening 
grain  of  autumn. 

I  am  thankful  that  I  am  to  live  in  this  city, 
among  this  people  of  my  choice  ;  that  I  am  to  be 
enriched  with  the  treasures  of  your  supporting 
love ;  that  the  incense  of  my  hopes  and  prayers  19 
to  ascend  with  yours  to  the  everlasting  throne  ; 
that  in  baptism  and  in  communion,  in  joy  and  in 
affliction,  in  sickness  and  in  health,  at  bridal  and 
at  burial,  in  social  and  in  sanctuary  intercourse, 
and  often,  I  trust,  in  blessed  seasons  of  religious 
revival,  we  may  be  able  to  praise  God  together,  and 


26  Sermons. 

to   proclaim,  each   in   our  own  way,  the  glorious 
Gospel  of  the  blessed  God. 

A  devoted  servant  of  God,  one  of  the  original 
missionaries  in  northern  New  York,  who  had  en- 
dured all  the  shady  side  of  ministerial  life,  preached 
a  sermon  before  the  synod  of  Albany,  in  the 
course  of  which  he  said,  "  Brethren,  I  have  for 
fifty-one  years  preached  the  Gospel  of  Christ  in 
the  midst  of  some  hardships  and  many  comforts  ; 
and  though  I  may  truly  say  that  I  do  not  fear 
death,  but  look  upon  it  with  great  calmness,  yet  if 
it  should  please  God  to  renew  my  term  of  office,  I 
would  joyfully  accept  a  commission  to  preach  the 
Gospel  clear  up  to  the  day  of  judgment!"  How 
long  or  how  short  my  ministry  shall  be,  is  known 
only  to  him  who  has  put  me  in  it.  But  whether  it 
is  to  be  half  a  century,  or  a  brief  experience  like 
that  of  Robertson,  or  Spencer,  or  Kingman  Nott, 
"like  an  angel's  wing  in  the  opening  cloud,  just 
seen  and  then  withdrawn,"  I  hope  I  shall  die  in  the 
harness,  and  that  my  last  words  like  my  first  words, 
shall  be,  a  message  of  glad  tidings  of  great  joy 
unto  all  people  I  Then  in  the  last  great  day,  I  may 
join  my  humble  voice  with  that  of  Robert  Hall, 
and  exclaim,  "  Is  this  the  end  of  all  my  labors,  my 
toils  and  watchings,  my  expostulations  with  sinners 
and  my  efforts  to  counsel  the  faithful  ?  And  is  this 
the  issue  of  the  ministry  under  which  I  was  often 


The  Ministry.  27 

ready  to  sink  ?  And  this  the  glory  of  which  I 
heard  so  much,  understood  so  little,  and  announced 
to  my  hearers  with  lisping  accents  and  a  stammer- 
ing tongue?  Well  might  it  be  styled  *thc  glory  to 
be  revealed.'  Auspicious  day !  on  which  I  em- 
barked in  this  undertaking,  on  which  the  love  of 
Christ  with  a  sweet  and  sacred  violence  impelled 
me  to  feed  his  sheep  and  feed  his  lambs.  With 
what  emotion  shall  we,  who  being  entrusted  with 
so  holy  a  ministry  shall  find  mercy  to  be  faithful, 
hear  that  voice  from  heaven,  *Be  glad  and  rejoice, 
and  give  honor  to  him  :  for  the  marriage  of  the 
Lamb  is  come,  and  his  wife  hath  made  herself  ready.* 
With  what  rapture  shall  we  recognize  among  an 
innumerable  multitude,  the  seals  of  our  ministry, 
the  persons  whom  we  have  been  the  means  of  con- 
ducting to  that  glory  !" 


SATISFIED  IN  HEAVEN 


SATISFIED    IN    HEAVEN. 


**  I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake  with  thy  likeness." 

Psalm  xvii.  15. 

With  the  clear  glance  of  faith  this  psalm  looks 
through  the  grave  into  the  land  of  the  redeemed. 
It  looks  away  from  human  associations  to  the  like- 
ness of  God,  away  from  sleep  to  the  blest  awaken- 
ing, away  from  the  longings  of  mortality  to  the 
fruition  of  every  hope.  David  opens  for  us  the 
door  of  heaven. 

When  we  think  of  heaven  we  are  often  left  in  a 
golden  haze  of  wonder.  We  hear  indistinct  sounds 
of  angelic  music.  We  have  a  dim  conception  of 
the  glories  of  the  land  that  is  very  far  off.  The 
Bible  does  not  give  us  a  handbook  of  the  celestial 
country;  it  is  designed  only  to  guide  us  on  the 
journey  of  human  life.  When  we  reach  the  other 
side  of  death's  river  we  must  have  some  one  to 
take  us  by  the  hand,  as  the  Italian  poet  was  led 
through  the  blissful  scenes  of  paradise  by  the  love 
of  Beatrice. 


32  Sermons. 

The  scattered  glimpses  which  we  get  throughout 
the  Bible  are  enough  to  make  us  shout  for  joy. 
But  after  all,  we  often  wonder  whether  in  heaven 
we  shall  do  this,  or  know  this,  or  have  this  ;  for 
example,  whether  we  shall  spend  our  existence  in 
singing ;  whether  we  shall  recognize  our  friends ; 
and  other  very  natural  inquiries  of  the  same  sort, 
till  we  scarcely  know  how  to  answer  our  asking 
hearts. 

But  all  such  questions  are  answered  in  our  text. 
The  text  does  not  deal  with  specific  inquiries,  but 
it  goes  to  the  bottom  of  all  our  longings  and  ques- 
tionings by  assuring  us  that  in  that  glorious  and 
divine  abode  we  shall  all  be  satisfied. 

All  men  will  not  be  satisfied  with  exactly  the 
same  things  any  more  than  they  are  here.  The 
souls  of  men  will  doubtless  be  purified  and  en- 
larged, but  they  will  retain  their  individual  peculi- 
arities in  heaven.  There  will  be  no  jarring,  no 
friction;  all  will  be  sympathy  and  love.  But 
sympathy  and  love  do  not  require  sameness  and 
identity.  In  the  family  we  find  the  intensest  love 
between  those  whose  general  aims  and  beliefs  coin- 
cide, but  who  in  temperament  and  experience  are  ' 
the  opposites  of  each  other.  ,  That  is,  there  is  unity 
in  the  essential  and  diversity  in  the  non-essential. 
There  is  the  diversity  of  the  soprano  and  the  bass, 
but  the  unity  of  the   resultant  harmony.     So  in 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  33 

heaven  our  souls  will  have  an  individual  character 
which  shall  be  consistent  with  the  deepest  sym- 
pathy and  affection. 

If  then  this  individuality  shall  adhere  to  us  after 
we  have  crossed  the  threshold  of  death,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  we  shall  not  all  be  satisfied  with  the  same 
scenes  and  occupations.     But  we  shall  all  be  satis- 
fied.    Heaven  is  a  place  of  infinite  variety.     The 
God  of  heaven  is  the  God  of  nature.     He  made 
and  he  fills  both.     But  what  is  the  great  character- 
istic of  nature.^     It   is  endless  diversity.     In  all 
the  millions  upon  millions  of  natural  objects  it  may 
be  doubted  whether  there  are  any  two  exactly  alike. 
There  are  upon  the  earth  a  thousand  millions  of 
human  beings.     Since   the  birth  of  Adam  there 
have  been  millions  of  millions ;  but  it  is  not  sup- 
posable  that  in  all  those  countless  multitudes  there 
ever  have   been   two   who  exactly  resemble  each 
other.     Even  in  some  rare  cases  of  twin  brothers, 
the  mother  can  always  detect  a  difference.     There 
is  not  a  leaf  of  the  forest  that  has  its  exact  mate. 
There  is  not  an  insect,  a  flower,  a  blade  of  grass,  a 
grain  of  sand,  but  that  the  microscope  can  assign 
to  it  a  form  and  peculiarity  of  its  own.     No  two 
days  were  ever  just  equal  in  summer  beauty.     The 
ocean   never  kept  the  same  expression  for  many 
hours  together.     The  world  is  a  great  kaleidoscope 
into  which  the  naturalist  gazes.     It  is  always  beau- 


34  SermonSi 

tiful,  but  every  time  he  looks  there  is  something 
different  from  what  he  saw  before.  The  idea  that 
every  one,  in  order  to  be  happy,  must  be  just  like 
every  other,  gains  no  support  from  what  we  know  of 
nature  or  of  domestic  experience.  The  highest  hap- 
piness comes  from  originality  and  spontaneity,  indi- 
vidually controlled  by  the  presidency  of  love ;  in 
other  words,  by  being  natural  in  a  loving  way.  This 
my  is  idea  of  a  family,  my  idea  of  a  church,  my  idea 
of  heaven.  It  is  a  glorious  liberty.  One  star  may 
differ  from  another  in  glory.  One  may,  like  Mer- 
cury, nestle  in  the  bosom  of  the  sun ;  one  may, 
like  Venus,  shine  illustrious  as  the  herald  of  the 
dawn  ;  one  may  be  like  Jupiter,  blazing  with  his 
six-fold  moonlight ;  others  may  be  feeble,  wander- 
ing asteroids  with  just  a  spark  of  light ;  but  all 
will  derive  their  glory  from  the  Sun  of  Righteous- 
ness, and  all  will  roll  in  the  orbit  of  heaven  obe- 
dient to  the  gravity  of  love. 

If  these  conclusions  as  to  the  infinite  individ- 
uality of  the  redeemed  are  correct,  then  every  one 
may  be  said  to  have  a  heaven  of  his  own.  Here 
upon  the  earth  he  can  picture  his  heaven,  and  the 
Lord  God  will  give  it  to  him.  For  he  shall  be 
satisfied.  Not  satisfied  precisely  in  the  same  way 
that  I  shall  be  satisfied  or  that  you  will  be,  but  it 
is  enough  that  we  shall  be  satisfied  when  we  awake 
to  heaven. 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  35 

Most  persons,  for  example,  have  a  love  of  music. 
The  concord  of  sweet  sounds  allures  them  away 
from  trouble  into  far  off  lands  of  peace.  Some 
have  the  greater  love  for  the  instrument,  for 
the  stirring  notes  of  military  music,  or  for  the 
symphonies  of  Handel  and  Beethoven,  heaving 
the  bosom  of  the  enchanted  atmosphere  as  they 
roll  from  the  pipes  of  a  cathedral  organ.  Some 
love  the  human  voice,  and  prefer  to  hear  the 
great  congregation  with  heart  and  soul  offering 
up  to  God  the  incense  of  their  songs.  Music 
is  the  expression  of  triumph.  It  is  the  natural 
sound  of  joy.  When  the  soul  is  happy  the  heart 
can  but  sing.  Music  means  happiness.  Some 
not  understanding  this  symbolism,  not  having 
an  ear  for  music,  and  not  able  to  sing  a  verse 
to  save  them,  have  an  unconscious  dissatisfac- 
tion with  the  idea  that  angels  do  nothing  but 
sing  and  play.  But  the  idea  of  the  music  of 
heaven  is  not  that  the  redeemed  will  sing  hal- 
lelujahs in  order  that  they  may  be  happy.  It 
is  that  they  shall  be  so  full  of  joy  and  bless- 
edness   that    they   cannot   help    singing    for  joy. 

There  are  many  who  cannot  sing  audibly, 
here,  because  their  vocal  organs  are  not  flexible 
and  obedient ;  they  did  not  learn  when  they 
were  children :  but  their  hearts  are  in  tune. 
They   sing  with   the  spirit  and  join   the   praise, 


36  Sermons. 

although,  like  Hannah  in  her  prayers,  the  voice 
is  not  heard.  When  they  shall  assume  the  pure 
and  glorified  body  it  will  be  like  a  living  song. 
It  is  said  that  two  children  were  one  day  seen 
very  ill  in  the  same  room.  The  older  of  the 
two  was  heard  frequently  attempting  to  teach 
the  younger  to  pronounce  the  word  "  Halle- 
lujah," but  without  success.  The  dear  little  one 
died  before  he  could  repeat  it.  When  the 
brother  was  told  of  his  death,  he  was  silent  for 
a  moment,  and  then  looking  up  at  his  mother, 
said  "Johnny  can  say  'Hallelujah'  now,  mother." 
In  a  few  hours  the  two  little  brothers  were 
united  in  heaven  singing  hallelujahs  together. 
This  is  the  way  in  which  death  will  loose  the 
stammering  tongues  of  many  who  never  sang 
on  earth,  but  who  shall  join  in  the  new  song 
of  rapture,  victory  and  salvation.  Men  will  not 
sing  all  the  time,  in  heaven,  any  more  than 
they  will  sing  all  the  while  in  the  Sabbath  ser- 
vice of  earth,  or  when  they  are  happy  with  the 
loved  ones  at  home.  The  music  of  heaven  will 
doubtless  be  a  great  source  of  joy  to  those  who 
like  music,  for  it  will  be  the  utmost  beauty  and 
fascination  of  the  great  Master  of  song,  inspired 
by  the  vision  of  God  and  translated  with  un- 
imaginable meaning  by  the  skill  of  shining  ones 
upon   celestial   instruments. 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  37 

The  longing  of  the  musician's  soul  shall  be 
satisfied  ;  but  the  full  idea  of  heavenly  music, 
and  one  which  finds  a  response  in  every  soul 
is,  that  God's  music  is  not  so  much  the  means 
of  happiness  as  the  result  of  it ;  it  is  the  shout 
and  song  of  those  that  cannot  contain  their 
glory.  As  I  said  before,  the  fact  that  so  much 
is  said  of  the  music  of  heaven  is  only  a  vivid 
assurance  of  the  perfect  joy  of  heaven,  and  that 
when   we  reach   there   we   shall   all   be   satisfied. 

In  the  next  place,  the  text  explains  the  hap- 
piness of  the  future  world  to  those  who  are 
comparatively  ignorant.  It  must  never  be  for- 
gotten when  we  are  talking  of  the  felicities  of 
heaven,  that  men  have  the  greatest  possible 
variety  of  disposition,  intelligence  and  taste. 
Now  apply  this  principle  to  the  joys  of  knowl- 
edge. Some  assert  truly  that  in  heaven  one 
great  source  of  happiness  will  be  th'^  acquisition 
of  knowledge.  But  there  are  two  sides  to  this 
view.  A  plain,  uneducated,  but  sincere  Chris- 
tian would  not  be  likely  to  entertain  very  ex- 
alted ideas  of  heaven  by  reading  Dr.  Dick's 
Philosophy  of  a  Future  State.  He  speaks  of  the 
joys  of  studying  astronomy  and  mathematics,  and 
spending  eternity  in  studying  the  secrets  of  the 
book  of  nature.  But  to  the  poor  contraband  or 
heathen   who   has    just    learned   to    love    Christ, 


38  Sermons. 

this  would  be  the  gloomiest  possible  idea  of 
heavenly  blessedness.  To  fix  the  mind  for  an 
hour  upon  anything  requiring  mental  exertion  is 
monotonous  and  irksome  in  the  extreme.  The 
little  boy,  who  has  the  instructive  dread  of 
books,  would  not  be  likely  to  be  attracted  by 
a  heaven  which  should  be  only  the  upper  de- 
partment of  an  infinite  school.  Neither  would 
those  who  have  little  taste  for  mathematics  like 
the  thought  of  an  eternity  of  cyphering.  One 
would  be  almost  like  the  theological  student  who 
asked  Dr.  Hopkins  what  language  we  should 
speak  in  heaven.  "  Hebrew,"  said  the  Doctor ; 
"  we  shall  doubtless  all  speak  Hebrew  in  heaven." 
"  Then,"  said  the  poor  student  who  had  been 
racking  his  brains  for  months  over  a  Hebrew 
grammar,  "  I  don't  think  I  shall  enjoy  myself  in 
heaven." 

Now  then,  the  text  assures  us  that,  whatever  may 
be  the  state  of  intellect  or  the  desire  for  knowl- 
edge, we  shall  all  be  satisfied  in  heaven.  In  some 
way  or  other  God  will  make  all  happy.  He  does 
not  state  in  His  revelation  just  how  He  will  do  this, 
because  then  He  would  have  to  give  a  revelation  to 
every  individual,  so  that  the  world,  I  suppose,  would 
not  have  contained  the  books  which  told  the  dif- 
ferent forms  of  happiness.  But  He  has  compressed 
the  whole  of  millions  of  promises  in  one  inspired 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  39 

line,  which  every  one  can  repeat  over  for  himself, 
"When  I  awake  I  shall  be  satisfied." 

There  will  be  a  peculiar  joy  in  heaven  to  those 
who  are  great  in  intellect.  The  astronomer  can 
revel  forever  amid  planets  and  systems,  treading, 
like  Newton,  through  the  firmament.  When  that 
great  philosopher  had,  after  years  of  toil,  discovered 
the  law  of  gravitation,  he  was  for  some  time  silent 
and  then  broke  out  in  thanksgiving  to  God.  The 
happiness  of  Newton  will  doubtless  consist  very 
largely  in  tracing  out  the  great  laws  which  govern 
all  created  things.  So  the  geologist  will  find  a 
peculiar  joy  in  tracing  out  the  order  of  Divine 
thought  in  the  fossil  creations  of  unnumbered 
worlds.  The  botanist  will,  like  Linnaeus  after  he 
had  discovered  forty  thousand  mosses  and  a  hun- 
dred thousand  plants,  doubtless  often  cry  with 
wondering  joy,  I  have  seen  the  footsteps  of  the 
Lord  and  am  astonished.  The  chemist  will  pierce 
the  arcana  of  the  elements  and  shout  out  to  the 
smiling  angels  "  I  have  found  it !  I  have  found  it !" 
The  naturalist  will  study  the  animal  tribes,  as 
Adam  did  when  the  Lord  God  brought  them  to 
him  to  see  what  he  would  call  them.  Heaven  will 
be  a  glorious  place  for  the  loftiest  minds  of  earth. 
But  it  will  be  also  a  glorious  place  for  the  child, 
and  for  the  poor  convert  who  can  just  spell  out  the 
name  of  Jesus.     I  suppose  that  we  shall  all  grow 


40  Sermons, 

in  knowledge  according  to  our  desires  ;  that  we 
shall  all  discover  what  we  desire  to  know.     When 
old  Father  Henson  reached  Canada   he  did  not 
know  how  to  read  the  Bible.     He  had  been  a  slave 
all  his  life  and  now  was  sixty  years  old.     But  his 
little  son  soon  learned  to  read  and  he  wanted  his 
father  to  learn  also.     "  No,  my  son  ;  I  am  too  old." 
"  But  won't  you  try  r    "  I  have  no  one  to  teach 
me,  my  son."     "  Then  I'll  be  your  teacher,"  and  so 
the  old  black  man  sat  down  at  the  feet  of  his  own 
son  and  learned  to  read  the  Bible.     Carvosso,  the 
Methodist  preacher  who  preached  to  the  colliers 
like  a  flame  of  fire,  could  not  read  till  he  was  past 
thirty.     Socrates   learned   music   in   his    old   age. 
Robert  Hall  at  sixty  sat  down  to  learn  Italian,  that 
he  might  read  the  wanderings  of  Dante  through 
heaven   and   hell.     So   doubtless   it  will   be  true, 
in    heaven,    that   all    our  desires   for  knowledge 
will   be  gratified,  and   that,  although   it   may  be 
a  little  late  in  life,    we    shall   begin   to  learn   a 
thousand   things   for  which   we  had   no   time   on 
earth.     Many   a   pale  enthusiast,  bending   by  his 
lonely   lamp    until   the   lamp   of  life  was    spent, 
shall    awake   to   smile   in   the    infinite    treasures 
of  knowledge.     And   on  the  other   hand,   for  the 
lowly    person    with    no    taste    or     capacity    for 
knowledge,   heaven   shall   not   be   void   of  happi- 
ness.    God  has  a  heaven  fur  all  those  who  love 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  4 1 

Him.  He  has  a  heaven  for  the  ignorant  and 
feeble-minded.  Although  they  know  nothing  of 
history,  they  know  the  God  that  reigns  in 
history.  They  may  know  nothing  of  astronomy, 
but  it  will  be  enough  for  them  to  watch  the 
Star  of  Bethlehem.  They  may  not  be  able  to 
chisel  out  the  footsteps  of  the  ^Creator  in  the 
geology  of  the  primeval  creation,  but  they  can 
think  with  joy  upon  Him  who  is  the  Rock  of 
Ages.  They  may  be  ignorant  of  natural  science, 
as  Adam  was  before  he  saw  the  animals,  but 
they  can  give  thanksgiving  for  victory  to  Him 
who  is  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah.  They 
may  know  nothing  of  plants  and  flowers,  from 
the  cedar  of  Lebanon  to  the  hyssop  that 
groweth  by  the  wall,  but  still  they  may  exult 
forever  in  the  knowledge  and  love  of  Him  whose 
name  is  the  rose  of  Sharon  and  the  lily  of  the 
vaUey. 

There  is  no  distinction  between  Jew  and  Greek, 
ignorant  and  learned,  bond  and  free.  Every 
loving   soul  shall   be   satisfied  in   heaven. 

In  a  similar  manner  the  text  applies  to  all 
those  longings  of  the  soul  which  belong  to  in- 
dividual rather  than  to  universal  experience. 
Some  have  a  longing  for  things  beautiful,  and 
revel  in  the  dreams  of  imagination,  rising  far 
from   earthly   scenes   as    on   early   wings.      Such 


42  Sermons. 

souls  will  be  satisfied  by  the  beauty  which  they 
will  find  in  the  many  mansions  of  the  Father's 
house.  The  sacred  writers  seem  to  labor  to 
select  glorious  imagery  to  convey  the  idea  of 
unimaginable  beauty.  They  use  the  most  vivid 
symbols  of  the  beautiful.  They  speak  of  pearls 
for  gates,  of  streets  of  solid  gold,  of  walls  of 
jasper,  the  clearness  of  pure  glass,  the  radiance 
of  the  sapphire  and  the  emerald,  and  the  varied 
hues  of  precious  stones ;  of  light  surpassing  the 
sun  and  moon ;  of  living  fountains,  the  tree  of 
life,  palms  of  victory.  Such  are  the  scattered 
intimations  which  we  have  of  that  Paradise  of 
God,  of  which  the  bloom  and  beauty  of  Eden 
were   only   an   imperfect   type. 

We  may  well  believe,  therefore,  that  they  whose 
souls  are  attuned  to  nature,  and  Vv^ho  drink  it  in  as 
life,  will  find  sublimity  and  beauty  such  as  this 
world  knows  not  of  This  world,  beautiful  as 
it  is,  with  its  garniture  of  forest  and  mountain, 
the  pearl  and  purple  of  its  setting  suns,  its 
caverns  hung  with  stalactites,  its  cataracts  notch- 
ing the  centuries  in  the  rocks,  and  its  tropic 
landscapes  faint   with  flowers,  where 

"  Strange  bright  birds  on  their  starry  wings, 
Bear  the  rich  hues  of  all  glorious  things  ;" 

this   world,   beautiful   as   it   is,   is   the  heir   of  a 
curse  and  is  disfigured  by  the  hand  of  sin.    But 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  43 

eye  hath  never  seen  heaven's  beauty  nor  mortal 
heart  imagined  it.  Out  of  Zion,  the  perfection 
of  beauty,  God  shall  shine  ;  and  then  the  long- 
ing of  many  an  imprisoned  soul  for  something 
grander  and  fairer  than  it  ever  has  seen  on 
earth,  shall  be  forever  satisfied.  They  shall  see 
the  palace  of  the  universe ;  they  shall  see  the 
King  in   his   Beauty. 

Many  a  soul,  in  this  world  of  work,  longs  for 
something  more  needful  than  beauty  to  those 
that  are  weary.  They  long  for  rest.  Some,  to 
be  sure,  care  not  for  repose.  They  are  happy 
only  in  activity,  and  labor  to  them  is  sweet. 
Such  spirits  will  find  infinite  spheres  in  which 
they  may  exercise  their  emancipated  powers  in 
the  service  of  God.  But  there  are  many  others, 
as  I  said,  who  sigh  for  rest.  They  are  like  a 
poor  woman,  whose  life  had  been  a  long  and 
stern  battle  with  poverty  and  work,  who  said 
she  could  not  be  happy  even  in  heaven  till  she 
could  lie  down  a  little  while  and  rest.  Another 
who  had  been  a  wanderer  as  well  as  a  worker, 
after  half  a  century  of  toil  and  care  lay  down 
to  die  and  said  to  those  who  watched  her 
parting  breath,  "  Oh  !  I  am  so  tired !  I  am  so 
tired !" 

To  such  a  weary  soul,  how  sweet  the  promise 
comes  of  the  rest   that  remaineth   for  the  people 


44  Semtons. 

of  God!  Tired  workers  in  dingy  factories  from 
dawn  till  dark ;  tired  workers  in  cotton-fields 
and  rice-swamps,  without  holiday  or  hope ;  tired 
seamstresses  sewing  their  own  shrouds ;  tired 
mothers  supporting  by  self-denying  work  the 
fatherless  households ;  tired  children  grown  prema- 
turely old  in  doing  work  beyond  their  strength  ; 
all  that  tired  world  that  scarce  finds  chance  for 
sleep,  roused  ere  the  dawn  by  the  shrill  sum- 
mons of  ceaseless  toil — the  revelation  gives  you 
glad  tidings.  Soon  the  happy  season  of  vaca- 
tion shall  burst  upon  you,  like  a  summer  day 
in  the  breezy  shade  of  the  slumbering  woods, 
where  the  brooks  gurgle  in  their  coolness  and 
the  anemones  are  blooming  in  the  tufts  of 
moss.  There  is  rest  for  the  weary.  Ye  shall 
be  satisfied  when  ye  wake  in  His  likeness.  As 
ye  sigh  or  faint  in  the  harness  of  life-long  toil, 
sing   at   your  work  ;  sing   of  heaven — 

*'  There  I  shall  bathe  my  weary  soul 
In  seas  of  heavenly  rest ; 
And  not  a  wave  of  trouble  roll 
Across  my  peaceful  breast." 

There  are  those  that  long  for  sympathy  which 
they  cannot  find  on  earth.  Amid  all  the  bustle 
and  the  crowd  of  life,  they  feel  that  their  true 
character  and  motives  are  misapprehended  and 
misconstrued.  They  are  conscious  of  integrity, 
devotion   to  the  voice  of  God,   and  good  will  to 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  45 

their  fellow  men.  But  a  peculiarity  of  organi- 
zation or  strange  combination  of  circumstances 
makes  them  suspected,  or  at  least  unappreci- 
ated, as  to  their  piety  and  benevolence.  They 
cannot  explain  to  the  world ;  they  are  out  of 
tune  with  it.  They  are  made  miserable  by  the 
thought  that  no  one  knows  their  heart.  The 
world  to  them  is  like  a  deaf  man  engaged  in  con- 
versation. It  catches  only  a  part  of  their  mean- 
ing, and  often  what  it  does  catch  is  entirely 
dislocated  and  gives  an  erroneous  idea.  Like 
the  deaf  man,  the  world  does  its  best.  It  is 
not  from  want  of  good  intention  so  much  as 
from  some  peculiarity  in  the  case,  that  many 
men  go  through  life  alone  and  silent,  but 
with  inexpressible  longing  for  a  circle  of 
friendship  where  the  hunger  of  love  might  be 
satisfied.  They  feel  that  they  are  starving  on 
the  husks  of  outward  appearance,  when  above 
all  things  they  desire  a  crumb  of  vital  sympa- 
thy. They  mingle  in  the  tide  that  pours  along 
the  street,  and  they  say  to  themselves,  no  one 
of  all  this  multitude  cares  for  me.  They  go  to 
church,  and  here,  where  the  electric  waves  of 
Christian  affection  would  naturally  touch  and 
gladden  the  heart,  every  one  seems  self-invol- 
ved and  distant.  It  seems  a  relief  to  hear  the 
blended  voices  of  Christian  worship,  and   if  the 


4^  Sermons. 

congregation  unite  in  the  singing  and  the 
stranger  knows  how  to  sing  a  little,  he  joins 
in  the  sympathetic  service  and,  without  really 
knowing  why,  he  feels  relief  and  pleasure.  It 
is  because  he  is  pining  for  sympathy.  There 
are  various  minor  things,  which  are  outside  of 
joy,  with  which  he  is  in  harmony  with  those 
he  meets.  But  the  great,  deep  want  of  religious 
sympathy  is  all  unsupplied.  His  religious  na- 
ture is  locked  up  like  a  monarch's  crown.  He 
is  not  satisfied.  Oh,  for  a  world  where  we  may 
beat  in  unison  !  Oh,  for  a  world  where  we  can 
see  eye  to  eye  !  Oh,  for  a  world  where  we  shall 
know  even  as   we   are   known  ! 

We  sometimes  ask  ourselves  the  question, 
Shall  we  know  our  earthly  friends  in  heaven } 
and  by  this  we  mean  only  the  external  re- 
cognition. I  answer.  Yes.  But  more  vital  is 
the  question.  Shall  we  know  each  others'  hearts 
just  as   they   are.?     And  to  this  I  answer.   Yes: 

"  W^e  shall  know  each  others  eyes, 
And  the  thoughts  that  in  them  lay, 
When  we  meet  above  the  skies 
That  pass  away." 

Every  heart  shall  be  spontaneous,  vocal,  joyful; 
and  the  shadows  of  earthly  coldness  and  restraint 
shall  be  dissipated  in  the  clear  shining  of  the 
heavenly  light. 

Every  silent,  longing  soul  stands  now  like  the 


Satisfied  in  Heaven,  47 

statue  of  Memnon  waiting  for  the  dawn.  Ac- 
cording to  the  legend,  it  stood  near  the  Egpytian 
city  cold  and  dumb  all  through  the  night  with 
its  face  to  the  east.  Then,  as  soon  as  the 
morning  sun  sent  forth  its  earliest  flush,  some 
secret  spring  of  utterance  was  touched,  and  made 
to  greet  the  sun-light  with  a  joyful  sound. 
Many  men  and  women  are  Memnonian  statues : 
through  the  long  night  they  wait  in  solitude 
and  silence.  They  have  not  found  the  dawn 
of  sympathizing  love.  But  when  the  light  of 
heaven  falls  upon  their  glorified  foreheads,  then 
for  the  first  time,  their  hearts  will  utter  an  ar- 
ticulate response.  They  will  emit  the  melody 
as  heaven  throws  back  the  dawn ;  they  shall 
drink  in  the  fellowship  of  kindred  and  the  com- 
munion of  saints ;  and  in  the  dialect  of  angels 
they  shall  murmur.  My  God,  I  thank  Thee— 
now  I  am   satisfied ! 

I  shall  not  undertake  to  enumerate  all  the 
'  longings  of  the  human  soul  which  shall  find 
their  fruition  in  heaven.  My  design  was  rather 
to  throw  back  your  attention  upon  your  own 
selves,  and,  giving  you  the  outline  of  future 
blessedness,  allow  each  one  to  fill  it  up  for 
himself  Therefore  I  have  taken  a  few  illustra- 
tions of  feelings  which  are  experienced  by 
many  persons,  but  which  are  by  no   means  go- 


48  Sermons. 

extensive  with  humanity,  in  order  to  bring  out 
the  meaning  of  the  text ;  to  show  that,  whatever 
the  Christian's  ideas  of  happiness  may  be,  they 
will  in  heaven  be  fully  met  and  gratified  if 
they    supply  a   real   want   of  his   soul. 

There  are  wants  far  deeper  than  any  which 
I  have  enumerated.  There  is  that  longing  to 
be  delivered  from  suffering  and  pain  and  human 
agony,  which  now,  in  these  sad  times  of  war, 
rests  like  a  nightmare  upon  us,  and  makes  us 
feel  a  personal  concern  in  every  brave  man 
who  comes  back  to  us  maimed  or  wounded. 
There  is  a  longing  to  be  far  away  from  the 
injustice  of  man  to  man.  We  know  what 
Cowper   meant  when   he  exclaimed — 

"  Oh,  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness, 
Some  boundless  contiguity  of  shade, 
Where  rumor  of  oppression  and  deceit 
Might  never  reach  me  more  !     My  ear  is  pain'd, 
My  soul  is  sick  with  ev'ry  day's  report 
Of  wrong  and  outrage  with  which  earth  is  filled. 
It  does  not  feel  for  man." 

We  instinctively  feel  that  we  never  can  find  that 
blessed  spot  for  which  our  hearts  are  sighing, 
until  we  reach  the  place  where  men  are  holy. 
Instead  of  exclaiming  in  despair.  Oh,  what  a 
World  this  is !  we  can  look  through  the  tele- 
scope of  faith  and  say.  Oh,  what  a  world  that 
is !  The  world  of  justice  and  of  love>  where 
God's   will   is   the    law  of  the    land ;  where    the 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  49 

wicked  cease  from  troubling  and  the  weary  are 
at   rest. 

There  is  longing  for  the  lost  purity.  God 
gave  men  the  pearl  of  great  price.  They  have 
lost  it  and  cannot  find  it.  They  go  up  and 
down  the  world,  seeking  for  it  in  the  nooks 
and  corners,  feeling  in  the  caves  of  worldliness, 
diving  in  the  oceans  of  care.  But  they  cannot 
find  the  pearl  because  they  are  blind,  sin-blind. 
We  all  know  what  dissatisfaction  it  gives  us 
when  we  have  mislaid  or  lost  something  which 
we  value..  We  are  uneasy  till  we  find  it. 
We  talk  of  something  else,  but  the  lost  valuable 
troubles  us.  We  busy  ourselves  with  our  oc- 
cupations, but  still  we  think  of  our  loss.  We 
cannot  sleep  in  quietness,  we  cannot  enjoy  the 
blessings  around  us,  because  the  treasure  is 
gone.  So  it  is  with  men  who  have  lost  the 
pearl.  The  Christian  has  found  the  goodly  pearl 
of  justification.  But  the  kingly  pearl  of  perfect 
purity  which  our  ancestors  wore  on  the  world's 
birthday,  this  alas !  is  gone,  we  know  not  whithen 
But  we  know  the  joy  of  finding.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  world  so  exquisitely  satisfying 
as  the  recovery  of  a  lost  treasure,  Even  if  it 
is  nothing  but  a  trifle  of  earth,  it  gives  us  a 
momentary  peace.  But  the  finding  of  the  lost 
purity   will   be  like  life  from  the  dead.     Here  w6 

3 


50  Sermons. 

are  environed  by  temptations.  We  breathe  the 
smoke  and  dust.  Our  baptismal  robes  are  drag- 
gled and  soiled.  We  love,  indeed,  those  who  are 
most  spiritual ;  we  long  to  be  spiritually  minded  ; 
the  spirit  is  willing — but  the  flesh  is  weak. 
Sometimes  we  feel  that  we  are  chained  to  the 
pollution  of  sin  as  the  tyrant  Mezentius  bound 
the  living  prisoner  to  the  putrid  corpse,  foot 
to  foot,  hand  to  hand,  face  to  face.  We  cry 
out  in  agony — O  wretched  man  that  I  am  ! 
who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death  > 

Then  we  think  of  Christ.  Then  we  think  of 
heaven.  Then  we  dwell  upon  the  land  where 
this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality,  and  this  cor- 
ruption shall  put  on  incorruption.  Then  we  think 
of  the  purity  that  shall  be  ours  in  the  vision 
of  God.  We  rejoice,  when  we  lie  upon  the 
couch  of  sickness,  that  there  is  -a  land  in  which 
the  inhabitant  shall  not  say,  I  am  sick.  We 
rejoice,  in  the  hour  of  weakness,  that  the  time 
is  coming  when  we  shall  be  strong  in  every 
faculty  and  be  contented  with  what  we  do.  We 
rejoice,  on  the  verge  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
when  our  clasping  hand  is  torn  from  the  object 
of  deepest  love,  that  the  time  of  eternal  reunioii 
shall  soon  come,  and  the  Lord  God  shall  wipe 
away  all  tears  from  off  all  faces.     But  we  rejoice 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  51 

above  all  in  the  hope  that  we  shall  one  day 
find  the  lost  purity  and  live  in  conscious,  per- 
fect harmony  with  the  intuitions  of  our  highest 
reason   and   the   holy   will  of  God. 

This  is  joy.  This  is  the  blessedness  of  the 
redeemed.  The  fountain  can  hold  no  more  than 
the  pearl,  —  then  it  overflows  in  spontaneous 
music  and  the  seraphic  song.  This  is  the 
meaning  of  the  holiness  of  heaven.  This  is  what 
John  means  when  he  says,  God  is  the  light  of 
the  redeemed.  This  is  what  Payson  meant  when 
he  said,  if  he  saw  Christ  he  should  hardly  want 
to   see   any   one  else. 

Dr.  Clark  in  his  travels,  speaking  of  the 
companies  that  were  traveling  from  the  East  to 
Jerusalem,  represents  the  procession  as  being 
very  long ;  and  after  climbing  over  the  extended 
and  heavy  ranges  of  hills  that  bounded  the 
way,  some  of  the  foremost  at  length  gained 
the  highest  summit,  and  stretching  up  their 
hands  in  gestures  of  joy,  cried  out,  "  The  holy 
city !  The  holy  city !"  and  fell  down  and 
worshiped,  while  those  who  were  behind  pressed 
forward  to  see  the  vision.  So  when  we  stand 
upon  the  mountain-top  of  death  and  look  forward 
without  a  cloud  upon  the  clear  vision  of  the 
opening  paradise,  it  will  be  the  holiness  of  heaven 
that  will  put  wings  under  our  hearts,  and  halle- 


52  Sermons. 

lujahs  upon  our  lips.  Holiness  is  the  only  joy. 
If  we  can  only  be  holy,  we  shall  surely  be  happy. 
And  the  immortal  thirst  for  happiness  can  be 
quenched  only  at  the  streams  whose  flowing  makes 
glad  the  city  of  our  God.  Then  the  deep  longings 
of  our  spiritual  nature  shall  be  perfected.  Purity 
and  blessedness  shall  fill  the  heart  of  those  who 
shall  enter  into  the  Holy  City.  Then  our  aspira- 
tions shall  be  forever  satisfied. 


''  Not  here  !  not  here  !     Not  where  sparkling  waters 
Fade  into  mocking  sands  as  we  draw  near, 
Where,  in  the  wilderness,  each  footstep  falters  ; 
*  I  shall  be  satisfied  ' — but  oh  !  not  here. 

Not  here — where  all  the  dreams  of  bliss  deceive  us, 
Where  the  worn  spirit  never  gains  its  goal ; 

Where,  haunted  ever  by  the  thought  that  grieves  us, 
Across  us  floods  of  bitter  memory  roll. 

There  is  a  land  where  every  pulse  is  thrilling 
With  rapture  earth's  sojourners  may  not  know  j 

Where  heaven's  repose  the  weary  heart  is  stilling. 
And  peacefully  life's  time-tossed  currents  flow. 

Far  out  of  sight,  while  yet  the  flesh  enfolds  us, 
Lies  the  fair  country  where  our  hearts  abide  ; 

And  of  its  bliss  is  nought  more  wondrous  told  us 
Than  these  few  lines,  '  I  shall  be  satisfied.' 

Satisfied  !  Satisfied  !  The  spirit's  yearning 

For  sweet  companionship  with  kindred  minds  ; 
The  silent  love  that  here  meets  no  returning, 
The  inspiration  which  no  language  finds. 

Shall  they  be  satisfied  ?  The  soul's  vague  longing. 
The  aching  void  which  nothing  earthly  fills  ; 


Satisfied  in  Heaven.  53 

Oh,  what  desires  upon  my  soul  are  thronging, 
As  I  look  upward  to  the  heavenly  hills. 

Thither  my  weak  and  weary  steps  are  tending  ; 

Saviour  and  Lord  !  With  thy  frail  child  abide  ! 
Guide  me  toward  home,  where,  all  my  wandering  ending, 

I  then  shall  see  Thee  and  be  satisfied  !" 


SEEN    OF    ANGELS 


SEEN  OF  ANGELS. 


*'  Seen  of  angels." 

I   Tim.  hi.  i6. 

Next  in  interest  to  the  question,  ''  Wiiat  think 
ye  of    Christ  ^ "    is  the  question,     What    do   the 
other  inhabitants  of  creation  think  of  Him  }     The 
word  of  God  speaks  of  beings  that  are  in  heaven 
and  that  are  in  earth,  visible  and  invisible,  whether 
they  be  thrones  or  dominions  or  principalities  or 
powers.     It  speaks  of   angels,  the  messengers  of 
mercy  and  salvation,  of  Zoa  or  living  ones,  (the 
word  so  unfortunately  rendered   beasts,  in  Reve- 
lation), of  cherubim  or  knowing  ones,  of  seraphim 
or  burning   ones.      It   speaks  of   Michael    and  of 
Gabriel.     It  speaks  of   countless  hosts  of  shining 
ones,  excelling  in  strength,  radiant  with  immortal 
youth,      endowed      with      wondrous    knowledge, 
possessed  of  consummate  holiness,  dwelling  in  the 
presence-chamber  of  God,  and  singing  before  the 
sapphire   colored    throne  with   saintly   shout   and 
solemn    jubilee.      What  do   the   angels   think   of 


58  Sennons. 

Christ  ?  Have  they  seen  Him  ?  Do  they  know 
Him  ?  How,  from  their  nearer  presence  and 
superior  light,  does  Christ  appear  to  them  ?  As  we 
surround  the  mercy-seat  this  morning  and  welcome 
the  holy  festival  which  is  the  monument  of  a 
crucified  Redeemer,  let  us  try  and  soar  above  the 
smoke  and  stir  of  earthly  things,  and  see  Christ  as 
the  angels  have  seen  Him.  Let  us  meditate  upon 
this  theme— »THE  angels'  vision  of  christ. 

The  angelic  host  first  saw  Christ  as  the  glory  of 
the  Father.  God  is  the  king  eternal,  immortal, 
and  invisible.  He  dwelleth  in  light  which  is 
unapproachable.  No  one  hath  seen  God  at  any 
time.  Moses  saw  not  His  face,  but  only  the  trail  of 
His  departing  glory.  When  Isaiah  says  he  saw 
the  Lord  sitting  upon  a  throne  high  and  lifted  up, 
he  saw  not  the  God  paternal  and  absolute,  but  the 
Messiah ;  for  St.  John  declares  that  the  vision 
pertained  to  Jesus  when  he  says,  "  These  things 
said  Esaias,  when  he  saw  His  glory,  and  spake  of 
Him."  The  eye  of  an  angel  never  gazed  on  the 
paternal  Deity.  The  redeemed  have  not  seen 
Him.  The  Christian  in  heaven  will  see  no  more  of 
Him  than  the  seraph  whose  face  is  covered  with  his 
wings.  God  is  every  where.  He  is  in  the  twink- 
ling star  whose  distance  makes  us  dizzy.  He  is 
beyond  the  wing  of  the  morning  in  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  sea.     He  is  here  in  this  city.     He  is 


Seen  of  Ajigels.  59 

in  this  place  0!  worship.  Not  a  part  of  Him,  nor 
an  attribute  of  Him,  but  the  entire,  full  orbed 
deity  of  the  King  eternal,  immortal  and  invisible  ; 
the  whole  of  God  is  here. 

Why  is  He  invisible }  Because  He  is  incorporeal, 
spiritual.  He  is  no  body,  but  is  all  soul.  There 
was  a  point  in  the  bygone  eternities,  when  God 
could  not  be  said  to  be  in  the  universe  ;  God  was 
the  universe  ;  God  was  unrevealed  and  solitary. 
Satan  was  not  born.  No  angel  or  archangel  sang 
or  flew.  Man  was  not  yet  made  from  dust.  Dust 
was  not  yet  made  from  chaos.  Chaos  was  not  yet 
evoked  from  nothingness.  All  was  blankness, 
infinite  depth  of  darkness,  the  negation  of  life. 
Not  a  sound  of  created  thing  ticked  in  the  awful 
silence.  Not  a  star  glimmered  on  the  vision  of  the 
only  One.  And  all  this  for  periods  of  duration  to 
which  the  six  thousand  years  of  human  history  is 
not  so  much  as  the  click  of  Time's  pendulum. 
Then  God  revealed  himself  in  the  Son.  "  No  man 
hath  seen  God  at  any  time  ;  the  only  begotten  Son, 
which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  hath 
declared  him."  Christ  is  the  glory  of  the  Father. 
In  that  wonderful  chapter  of  Hebrews  which 
speaks  of  the  ascendency  of  Christ  over  the 
angels.  He  is  called  the  brightness  of  the  Father's 
glory  and  the  express  image  of  His  person.  God 
the    Father  is    God-absolute.     God    the   Son    is 


6o  Sermons. 

God-absolute,  revealed.  You  cannot  see  the  king 
of  day,  the  body  of  it.  You  can  see  the  light,  the 
glory  of  it,  for  the  sunlight  is  the  sun  made  mani- 
fest.  Such  may  be  the  nature  of  the  glory  which 
Christ  had  with  the  Father  before  the  world  was  ; 
when,  in  the  beginning,  the  word  was  with  God 
and  the  word  was  God. 

In  this  majesty  and  glory,  Christ  was  first  seen 
of  angels.  Then  first  they  veiled  their  faces.  The 
first  sound  that  startled  the  solitudes  of  eternity 
was  the  song  burst  of  the  wondering  cherubim,  cry- 
ing out  unto  Christ,  **  Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God 
of  Sabaoth." 

II. — Christ  was  seen  of  angels  as  the  Creator  of 
the  worlds.  The  apostle  speaks  of  Christ,  not  as 
the  Creator  of  the  world,  but  of  the  worlds.  All 
things  were  made  by  Him,  and  without  Him  was  not 
anything  made  that  was  made.  Unto  the  Son  he 
saith,  "  Thou  Lord,  in  the  beginning  hast  laid  the 
foundations  of  the  earth,  and  the  heavens  are  the 
work  of  thy  hands. 

They  saw  Christ  when,  in  answer  to  the  creative 
fiat, 

"  Orbs  of  beauty  and  spheres  of  flame, 
From  the  void  abyss  by  myriads  came." 

They  saw  Christ  ride  on  the  wings  of  cherubim^ 
far  into  chaos  and  the  worlds  unborn.  They  can 
tell  the  story  which  Raphael,  the  afiable  archangel 
related  to  Adam  before  paradise  was  lost ;  of  what. 


Seen  of  Angels.  6i 

in  Eden  or  without,  was  done  before  his  memory. 
They  saw  this  world  of  ours  just  as  it  first  rolled 
into  space,  as  the  eye  of  science  has  beheld  it, 
looking  backward  on  the  Mosaic  vision  of  creation  ; 
a  boiling  mass  of  molten  granite,  wrapped  in  thick 
and  scalding  steam.  In  the  majestic  language  of 
Milton, 

"  On  heavenly  ground  they  stood  ;  and  from  the  shore 
They  viewed  the  vast,  imnieasurable  abyss 
Outrageous  as  a  sea,  dark,  wasteful,  wild, 
Up  from  the  bottom  turned  by  furious  winds 
And  surging  waves,  as  mountains  to  assault 
Heaven's  height,  and  with  the  center  mix  the  pole." 

They  heard  the  sublime  voice  which  pierced  the 
listening  east  with  the  command,  "  Light,  Be  ! " 

They  witnessed  the  separation  of  the  waters,  the 
sea  of  vapor  rising  slowly  from  the  azoic  fire-ocean 
which  surged  and  thundered  around  the  foundation 
of  the  earth.  They  gazed  with  wonder,  as  the  sea 
was  specked  with  slowly  rising  rocks  ;  as  these 
multiplied  and  extended  and  united  into  great  flat 
continents  upheaved  from  the  bosom  of  the  boiling 
deep.  They  saw  them  clothed  with  floral  life. 
They  saw  the  gigantic  forests  untenanted  as  yet 
by  bird  or  beast,  stretching  away  from  pole  to  pole  ; 
waving  in  their  lonely  beauty  as  huge  pines  and 
gorgeous  fir  trees,  and  then  after  convulsions  and 
cataclysms,  stored  away  as  fossils  in  the  coal  mines 
to  warm  the  dwellings  and  feed  the  manufactories 
of  the  uncreated  race  of  man. 


62  Sermons. 

Those  great  whales,  the  reptile  monsters  larger 
than  hippopotami  and  elephants,  such  as  now  are  to 
be  found  in  our  great  museums,  the  angels  saw 
when  they  were  flying  through  the  firmament  of 
heaven  or  tempting  the  waters  of  the  deep.  They 
saw  the  gorgons,  hydras  and  chimeras  dire,  the 
most  wonderful  display  of  creative  power;  and 
they  saw  the  mammoth  and  mastodon  before  they 
were  buried  in  their  limestone  graves,  shaking  the 
earth  with  their  colossal  tread. 

Those  primeval  dynasties,  whose  broken  bones 
make  the  geologist  wonder,  were  then  the  kings  of 
creation.  The  angels  saw  them  rise  and  flourish 
and  then  make  way  for  nobler  existences  ;  for  suc- 
cessive genera  of  plants  and  animals,  fish  of  the 
sea  and  fowl  of  the  air  and  every  living  thing  that 
moveth  upon  the  earth ;  until  at  last  they  saw  the 
perfect  world  kindled  into  beauty  by  the  smile  ot 
God,  and  man  himself,  the  image  of  his  Maker, 
sinless  and  immortal,  a  little  lower  than  the  angels, 
crowned  with  glory  and  honor,  heir  of  the  world 
and  lord  of  paradise,  joining  in  matin  songs 
with  his  fair  spouse  on  the  world's  first  Sabbath 
morning.  Then  the  angels  united  in  the  song,  and 
the  morning  stars  sang  together,  and  all  the  sons 
of  God  shouted  for  joy. 

III. — Christ  was  seen  of  angels,  as  the  angel  of 
the  Lord. 


Seen  of  Angels.  63 

The  scriptures  teach  us,  that  before  Christ  was 
manifest  in  the  flesh,  he  appeared  to  men  in  the 
form  of  an  angel.     The  mediator  of  the  new  dis- 
pensation partook  of  human  nature  ;  the  mediators 
of  the  old  dispensation  were  Moses  and  the  angel 
of  the  covenant,  the  Jehovah  angel,  the  angel  of 
the  Lord.     On  occasions  of  great  solemnity  and 
importance,  the   ordinary    messengers  of   heaven 
were    superseded    by  a  more   august  personage. 
Christ  himself  appeared  to  men  in  the  semblance 
of  an  angel.     That  passage  in  our  version  does  not 
conflict  which  asserts  that  Christ  took  not  on  him 
the  nature  of  angels,  because  the  original  and  the 
margin  read  that  Christ  assisted  not  angels  but  the 
seed  of  Abraham.     There  are  various  passages  in 
the  Old  Testament  which  show  that  the  angel  of 
the  Lord  was  none  other  than  Christ  himself,  min- 
istering in  visible  form  to  the  children  of  humanity. 
Thus  in  Gen.  xlviii.  15,  "And   He  blessed  Joseph, 
and  said,  God,  before  whom  my  fathers  Abraham 
and  Isaac  did  walk,  the  God  which  fed  me  all  my 
life  long  unto  this  day,  the  angel  which  redeemed 
me  from  all  evil,  bless  the  lads."     Here  the  angel, 
who  is  also  his  redeemer,  is  clearly  the  same  as  the 
God  who  is  mentioned  before.     To  quote  the  words 
of  an  able  commentator, — ^*  The  angel  Jehovah  of 
the  Old  Testament  is  the  Savior  Christ  of  the  New, 
He  who  in  every  age  has  been  the  Redeemer  of  lost 


64  Sermons. 

men."  The  shining  ones  saw  Christ  as  the  Jehovah  * 
angel,  wiping  away  the  tears  of  Hagar  in  the  desert ; 
and  witholding  the  hand  of  Abraham  from  the  sacri- 
fice of  his  son,  as  if  he  had  said,  "  I  will  be  the 
Lamb  for  the  burnt  offering."  He  appeared  unto 
Jacob  in  Bethel,  and  warned  him  to  return  to  his 
kindred.  This  was  the  angel  of  the  Lord  who  is 
called  God,  who  spake  in  fire  out  of  the  midst  of 
the  bush,  and  commanded  Moses  to  deliver  his 
people  from  the  oppression  of  the  Egyptians. 
This  was  the  angel  of  the  Lord  whose  name  was 
secret,  who  did  wondrously  while  Manoah  and  his 
wife  looked  on,  and  ascended  to  heaven  in  the 
flame  of  the  altar.  This  was  he  who  inspired 
Gideon  to  lead  the  hosts  of  Israel  to  victory.  This 
is  the  angel  of  the  Lord  who  encampeth  round 
about  them  that  fear  Him. 

We  would  not  indeed  be  presumptuous  upon  a 
subject  so  lofty  and  mysterious  ;  but  it  would  seem 
that  even  before  that  fullness  of  time  when  Christ 
should  be  born  of  the  virgin,  the  brightness  of  the 
Father's  glory  had  visited  this  earth  in  the  com- 
panionship of  angels  ;  even  as,  to  compare  great 
things  with  small,  Norsemen  touched  upon  our 
coast  and  left  their  mysterious  monuments  cen- 
turies before  the  true  discovery  of  the  world-seek- 
ing Genoese.  To  the  angels,  the  Son  of  God  ap- 
peared  even   from   the   beginning   to   manifest   a 


Seen  of  Angels.  65 

strange  interest  in  one  little  earth-speck  in  the 
broad  universe ;  and  to  pass  by  all  the  elder  born 
of  creation,  the  glorious  beings  who  excelled  in 
strength,  to  pour  the  fullness  of  his  love  upon  the 
infant  world  ;  upon  the  weak,  the  helpless  and  the 
wretched  beings  who  had  listened  to  the  tempting 
voice  of  the  arch-apostate-fiend  promising  know- 
ledge and  life  forever,  but  giving  instead  a 
dark  inheritance  of  remorse  and  tears  and  death 
and  all  our  woe.  Even  when  man  was  yet  a 
great  way  off,  the  Jehovah  angel  saw  him  and  had 
compassion,  and  ran  and  fell  upon  his  neck  and 
kissed  him.  The  angels  saw  him  thus  anticipating 
Bethlehem  and  Calvary,  much  as  we  might  see  a 
mother  lifting  from  a  bed  of  languishing  her  sick 
child,  for  some  maternal  ministry  of  mercy.  As 
she  bends  over  the  pale  darling  to  take  it  in  her 
arms,  she  cannot  wait,  but  the  fullness  of  her  love 
overflows  in  repeated  kisses  ;  and  the  babe  looks  up 
with  dimpling  smiles,  in  full  faith  that  all  will  be 
well  so  soon  as  he  is  enfolded  to  his  mother's  heart. 

But  all  this  anticipative  mediation  was  only  the 
fore-shadow  of  the  Incarnation.  Of  aill  the  visions 
which  the  angels  have  seen,  the  most  wonderful  is 
the  vision  of  God  manifest  in  the  flesh  as  the  Son  of 
David.    I  remark,  therefore,  in  the  fourth  place,  that, 

IV. — Christ  was  seen  of  angels  as  the  Incarnate 
Savior. 


66  Sermons. 

For  verily  Christ  assisted  not  angels,  but  he  as- 
sisted the  seed  of  Abraham.  "  Wherefore,  in  all 
things  it  behooved  him  to  be  made  like  unto  his 
brethren  ;  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful 
High  Priest  in  things  pertaining  to  God,  to  make 
reconciliation  for  the  sins  of  the  people.  For  in  that 
he  himself  hath  suffered,  being  tempted,  he  is  able 
to  succor  them  that  are  tempted." 

*'  Touched  with  a  sympathy  within, 
He  knows  our  feeble  frame ; 
He  knows  what  sore  temptations  mean, 
For  He  has  felt  the  same." 

The  angels  had  seen  Christ  as  the  glory  of  the 
Father,  and  worshiped  Him  for  myriads  of  ages  as 
very  God  of  very  God.  They  had  seen  His  creative 
love  and  power  revealed  in  sun  and  star,  in  fish  and 
fowl  and  beast,  and  godlike  man.  They  had  seen 
Him  on  rare  missions  of  mercy  as  a  monarch  in 
disguise.  But  now  that  He  should  leave  the  bosom 
of  the  Father  and  the  royalties  of  heaven,  to  as- 
sume the  nature,  not  of  angels  nor  of  archangels, 
but  of  man ;  and  not  of  man  in  his  most  exalted  con- 
dition as  king  or  prince,  but  as  a  despised  Galilean 
peasant ;  not  of  man  in  the  prime  of  years  and  of 
strength,  but  as -a  little  babe  crying  in  its  mother's 
arms,  born  in  a  stable  and  dying  on  a  gallows  ; 
this  excited  profound  astonishment  among  the 
heavenly  host.  And  not  only  the  facts,  but  the 
philosophy  of  the  incarnation  attract  the  gaze  of 


Seen  of  Angels.  67 

the  angels.  In  the  words  of  another,  ''Vast  ques- 
tions and  mysterious,  perplexing  to  human  thought 
and  by  the  human  intellect  inexplicable,  are  invol- 
ved in  the  philosophy  of  redemption.  The  limita- 
tion of  the  atonement  to  man,  while  apostate  angels 
are  excluded,  and  then  its  further  limitation,  in  its 
actual  result,  to  a  portion  only  of  the  human  race, 
while  its  essential  value  cannot  be  less  than  in- 
finite ;  the  equity  of  substitution,  even  though  the 
innocent  being  substituted  for  the  guilty  be  a  con- 
senting party  to  the  transaction ;  the  essential 
malignity  of  sin  to  require  such  a  sacrifice  in  order 
to  its  expiation  ;  the  influence' of  redeeming  mercy 
upon  the  moral  character  of  its  recipients,  purify- 
ing and  ennobling  their  nature,  and  lifting  them  up 
from  their  depravity  to  a  fitness  for  companionship 
with  themselves  and  fellowship  with  God ;  and 
the  ultimate  issue  of  the  whole  plan  in  the  annihi- 
lation of  moral  evil,  the  extinction  of  death,  the 
restoration  of  holiness,  the  incorporation  of  men 
and  angels  into  one  family,  the  universal  reign  of 
love,  and  the  everlasting  glory  of  the  Creator  and 
Redeemer,  these  are  the  things  which  the  Bible 
says  the  angels  desire  to  look  into." 

"  See  how  they  bend.     See  how  they  look. 
Long  had  they  read  the  eternal  book, 
And  studied  dark  decrees  in  vain ; 
The  cross  and  Calvary  make  them  plain. 
Now  they  are  struck  with  deep  amaze, 
Each  with  his  wing  conceals  his  face  ; 


68  Sermons. 

Now  clap  their  sounding  plumes  and  cry 
The  wisdom  of  a  Deity  !" 

During  the  thirty-three  years  of  Christ's  pil- 
grimage on  earth,  the  angels  were  ever  round  about 
him  with  watchful  sympathy  and  love.  He  had 
only  to  ask  the  Father,  and  straightway  twelve 
legions  of  shining  ones  would  have  rushed  on  swift 
wings  to  His  deliverance.  In  their  hands  they  bore 
Him  up,  lest  at  any  time  He  should  dash  His  foot 
against  a  stone.  From  the  first  infant  wail  to  the 
last  expression  of  sacrificial  agony,  they  were 
round  about  Him,  the  perpetual  witness  of  His  love. 
There  was  little  stir  on  earth  when  the  heavenly 
stranger  touched  its  shores,  but  heaven  was  half- 
emptied  and  hell  was  thunder  smitten,  when  Christ 
was  born  in  Bethlehem.  Herod  was  frightened 
when  he  heard  the  tidings,  but  with  greater  terror 
did  Satan  gaze  upon  that  sleeping  babe;  for  he 
knew  right  well,  by  devilish  instinct,  that  there  was 
something  holy  in  it ;  something  of  God  in  it. 
This  then  had  something  to  do  with  those  dim  pro- 
phecies which  he  had  heard,  cycles  of  ages  before, 
when  he  was  an  angel  of  light ;  of  a  Messiah,  of  a 
Redeemer,  who  should  frustrate  all  the  machina- 
tions of  hell ;  of  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  who 
should,  by  a  wondrous  sacrifice  of  Himself  upon  the 
cross,  atone  for  the  sins  of  humanity,  restore  man 
to  the  early  glories  of  his  being,  confirm  him  in 
perfect  happiness  and  holiness,  and  bring  the  king- 


Seen  of  Angels.  69 

dom  of  darkness  to  utter  and  irremediable  destruc- 
tion. This  was  the  seed  of  the  woman  that  should 
bruise  the  serpent's  head.  Here  in  that  manger- 
cradle  slumbered  the  hope  of  regenerate  humanity, 
the  germ  of  Satan's  ruin.  He  glared  upon  the 
divine  babe  as  Hubert  glared  upon  the  sleeping 
prince,  whose  eyes  he  fain  would  murder.  His 
once  glorious  face  was  seamed  with  anguish  and 
distorted  with  passion.  A  demoniac  smile  as  of 
sun-lit  storm,  stole  upon  his  lips  as  he  thought  of 
strangling  the  heaven-born  child,  or  luring  it  to 
hell.  But  round  about  the  stable  the  keen  eye  of 
Uriel  kept  watch,  and  the  fiery  brand  of  Michael 
made  lightning,  and  the  helmed  cherubim  and 
sworded  cherubim  kept  ward  as  of  old  around  the 
gates  of  Eden.  The  arch  fiend  spread  his  broad 
wings,  and  hell  grew  dark  with  his  frown,  as  he 
told  his  irretrievable  defeat  to  the  fallen  domina- 
tions enthroned  in  anguish  on  the  burning  marl. 
They  too  had  seen  their  enemy  afar,  and  as  they 
listened  to  the  news  from  earth,  they  sat  silent  and 
despairing  before  their  ruined  chieftain,  paced  in 
terror  the  gloomy  streets,  with  sulphurous  pallor  on 
their  brows  and  their  hands  upon  their  breasts, 
and  cried,  All,  all  is  lost  I 

"  The  oracles  are  dumb. 
No  voice  or  hideous  hum 
Runs  through  the  arched  roof  in  words  deceiving  \ 
Apollo  from  his  shrine 


70  Sermons. 

Can  now  no  more  divine. 
With  hollow  shriek  the  steep  of  Delphas  leaving  : 

^  7^  ^  ^  yr 

He  feels  from  Judah's  land 

The  dreaded  infant's  hand  ; 

The  rays  of  Bethlehem  blind  his  dusky  eyes ; 

Nor  all  the  Gods  beside 

Longer  dare  abide, 

Not  Typhon  huge  ending  in  snaky  train  ; 

Our  babe  to  show  his  Godhead  true 

Can  in  his  swaddling  bands  control  the  damned  crew." 

But  while  wicked  spirits  saw  and  trembled,  the 
holy  ones  were  jubilant  with  birthday  hallelujahs. 
In  all  the  countless  mansions  of  heaven,  Isaiah's 
song  was  sung,  "  Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us 
a  son  is  given :  and  his  name  shall  be  called  Won- 
derful, Counsellor,  The  mighty  God,  The  everlast- 
ing Father,  The  Prince  of  Peace." 

A  glorious  company  of  angels  appeared  to  the 
shepherds  on  the  plains  of  Bethlehem.  There  on 
those  fields  where  David  had  tended  his  father's 
flock  ;  where  Ruth  the  Moabitess  had  gleaned  in  the 
harvest  fields  of  Boaz  ;  there  in  the  cloudless,  balmy 
night,  the  white  flocks  were  nibbling  the  herbage, 
and  the  simple  shepherds  were  telling  the  tradition 
of  their  country's  glory  before  the  days  of  the 
Roman  ;  when  suddenly  the  moon  was  eclipsed  by 
the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  the  frightened  swains 
bowed  their  faces  to  the  ground.  But  the  angel 
said  unto  them,  "  Fear  not :  for  behold,  I  bring  you 
good  tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  peo- 
ple.    For  unto  you  is  born  this  day,  in  the  city  of 


Seen  of  Angels.  ^i 

David,  a  Savior,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord."  And 
then,  before  the  angel  had  ended,  there  was  sudden 
music,  as  from  the  keys  of  some  great  organ  swell- 
ing its  Christmas  anthem  through  the  dome  of 
heaven,  and  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host,  who 
had  sung  together  on  the  evening  of  creation,  now, 
on  the  morning  of  redemption,  joined  voices  in 
more  exalted  symphonies, — "Glory  to  God  in  the 
highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good  will  towards 
men." 

Everything  the  Savior  did  or  suffered  was  worthy 
of  angelic  regard.  They  bent  over  him  as  he  grew 
from  infancy  to  boyhood.  When  Herod,  under 
pretense  of  paying  his  respects  to  him,  sought  the 
you.xg  LiUxJ's  life,  they  were  with  him  in  his  exile 
to  Egypt ;  they  saw  him  return  to  Galilee  to  be 
subject  to  his  parents.  They  followed  him  as  he 
grew  up  in  human  beauty  and  in  heavenly  grace. 
They  saw  him  as  a  boy  of  twelve.  There  is  a  pic- 
ture which  you  have  seen  of  John  Milton  at  the 
age  of  twelve,  a  noble  boy  with  flowing  curls  heavy 
upon  his  shoulders,  his  well  chiseled  features  not 
yet  wrinkled  by  the  sternness  of  life  and  his  full 
blue  eye  undarkened  as  yet,  and  lustrous  with 
dreams  of  chivalry.  This  always  suggests  to  my 
mind  the  picture  which  the  Evangelists  have  given 
of  Jesus  at  the  age  of  twelve.  No  painter  has  ever 
depicted   the  God-boy  worthily.     But   in   my  im- 


72  Sermons. 

agination,  I  can  see  his  dark,  flashing  eye  already 
expanding  with  the  consciousness  of  his  divine 
mission.  I  can  see  him,  in  his  oriental  dress,  stand- 
ing on  the  marble  pavement  of  the  temple,  dream- 
ing of  heavenly  things.  A  faint  glory  encircles  his 
brow,  and  the  doctors  of  law  look  with  wonder  as 
the  noble  boy  asks  them  of  the  commandments  and 
the  meaning  of  the  sacrifices  and  the  interpreta- 
tion of  prophecies  ;  while  a  band  of  angels  with 
folded  wings  gaze  reverently  upon  the  scene. 

The  angels  saw  Christ  not  only  as  a  perfect  boy : 
they  saw  him  grow  in  stature  and  wisdom,  and  in 
favor  with  God  and  man.  They  saw  the  Messiah 
dignifying  labor,  as  a  humble  carpenter ;  so  that  the 
Son  of  God  could  say,  like  Paul  to  the  Ephesian 
elders,  "These  hands  have  ministered  to  my  ne- 
cessities." And  then,  after  thirty  years  of  waiting, 
when  he  was  prepared  by  obscurity  and  poverty 
by  misunderstandings  and  misrepresentations,  such 
as  are  often  witnessed  in  an  inferior  degree  in  the 
case  of  struggling  genius,  in  order  that  he  might 
be  in  all  points  of  temptation  like  as  we  are,  they 
saw  him  enter  upon  his  glorious  work.  With  bowed 
head  he  stands  in  the  ford  of  Jordan,  praying 
while  his  forerunner  pours  the  water  on  his  sacred 
brow.  Then  comes  the  holier  baptism  of  the 
Spirit  and  the  Paternal  recognition  from  the  open- 
ing heavens,   solemnly  proclaiming  to   men   and 


Seen  of  Angels.  73 

angels  that  Jesus  was  in  truth  the  Son  of  God. 

The  angels  saw  Jesus  when  He  was  alone  with 
Satan  in  the  desert  of  Judea.  They  saw  the  at- 
tempt to  seduce  the  Redeemer  into  the  common 
apostacy  of  mankind,  by  temptation  addressed  to  the 
bodily  appetite,  to  the  love  of  power,  to  the  desire 
for  worldly  possessions.  They  saw  Him  weakened 
by  long  abstinence,  surrounded  by  wild  and  howl- 
ing beasts  far  in  the  lonely  desert,  wrestling  for 
more  than  a  month  with  all  the  subtlety  and  might 
of  hell ;  then,  when  the  rebellious  fiend  had  again 
spread  his  dusky  pinions  and  left  the  God-man 
panting  but  victorious,  the  hovering  angels  came 
with  gentlest  ministry  of  healing  and  sympathy. 
The  angels  came  and  strengthened  Him. 

They  were  with  Him  once  again  in  Cana  of  Gali- 
lee, where  conscious  nature  first  recognized  her 
Lord,  at  the  beginning  of  miracles.  They  saw  the 
irrepressible  Deity  flashing  forth  in  works  of  heal- 
ing and  resurrection  and  forgiveness.  And  on  the 
other  hand  they  saw  Christ's  humanity.  They  saw 
that  perfect  character  in  which  the  chivalry  of 
earth  and  heaven  were  blended ;  woman's  tender- 
ness, man's  nobleness,  the  child's  simplicity,  the 
seraph's  purity,  all  interfused  in  molten  gold,  on 
which  the  glory  of  the  Father  rested  in  perpetual 

light. 

More  than  the  intellect  of  Newton,  more  than 
4 


74  Sermons. 

th6  inlagination  of  Milton,  more  than  the  knowl- 
edge of  Humboldt,  more  than  the  philanthropy 
of  Washington,  more  than  the  wisdom  of  Socrates' 
more  than  the  meekness  of  Moses,  more  than  the 
faith  of  Abraham,  more  than  the  courage  of  Elijah, 
more  than  the  patience  of  Job,  more  than  the  sub- 
mission of  David,  more  than  the  glory  of  Adam, 
were  seen  of  angels  in  this  second  Adam,  who 
came  to  incarnate  all  our  longings  for  perfection 
and  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man. 

Christ  was  seen  of  angels  on  the  mount  of  trans- 
figuration,  when  He  made,  as  it  were,  a  transient 
visit  to  His  native  heaven,  and  His  Godhead  was  un- 
veiled in  all  its  majesty  and  splendor  ;  when  His 
face  did  shine  as  the  sun  and  His  raiment  was  white 
as  the  light. 

He  was  seen  again  by  the  angels  when  there 
was  no  light  on  earth,  in  the  midnight  of  Gethse- 
mane.  There  under  the  olive-trees,  while  John 
and  James  and  Peter  were  asleep,  and  the  solemn 
moon  refused  to  give  her  light,  they  saw  the  ear- 
nestness of  His  supplication  ;  they  saw  the  intense 
agony  of  His  spirit ;  they  saw  the  big  beads  of 
blood  rolling  down  His  face  and  falling  to  the 
ground ;  they  saw  Him  exceeding  sorrowful,  even 
unto  death.  The  ternptef  who  had  left  Him  for  a 
season,  now  returned  fdr  a  final  and  awful  contest. 
Ingratitude^  neglect^  treason,  torture>  shame,  all  the 


Seen  of  Angels.  75 

bitterness  of  hopeless  life,  concentrated  their 
agonies  in  the  cup  of  the  world's  redemption,  and 
as  the  Savior  took  it  up  and  drained  it  to  the  dregs, 
an  angel  came  and  strengthened  Him. 

Once  again,  on  Calvary,  in  the  darkest  hour,  was 
Christ  seen  of  angels.  Hanging  there  between 
heaven  and  earth  as  the  suffering  Mediator,  with 
parched  tongue  and  racked  nerve,  and  brain  all 
burning,  men  could  not  see  Him.  His  virgin  mother 
was  there,  and  he  who  had  so  often  leaned  upon  His 
bosom  was  there,  and  a  great  company  of  mourners 
were  there,  but  they  could  not  see  Him  for  the 
darkness  which  covered  the  mountain  like  a  funeral 
pall.  No  human  friend  could  comfort  Him.  God 
himself  forsook  Him,  that  He  might  endure  every 
unutterable  pang.  The  angels  saw  it,  but  they 
could  not  strengthen  Him  now.  He  must 
tread  the  wine  press  alone.  Thus  they  looked 
down  on  this  deep  mystery  of  love,  as  the  cherubim 
gazed  upon  the  mercy-seat ;  and  every  eye  in  all 
the  universe  of  God  was  riveted  upon  that  cross  on 
which  the  God-man  voluntarily  suffered  for  the  sins 
of  the  world.  They  witnessed  the  lurid  light,  the 
rending  veil,  the  shattered  rocks,  the  buried  saints 
walking  the  streets  in  white,  the  hum  of  awe,  the 
shriek  of  consternation,  but  they  heeded  them  not ; 
their  eye  was  fixed  with  steady  gaze  upon  that 
cross,  upon  the  pale  corpse  of  the   crucified   Re- 


76  Sermons. 

deemer.     It   seemed  to    them,  for    a  moment,  as 
though  God  himself  were  dead. 

But  the  Redeemer  rose.  The  angels  came  again 
to  sing  the  Easter  anthem.  For  David  speaketh 
concerning  Him,  "  I  have  set  the  Lord  always 
before  me.  Therefore  my  heart  is  glad  and  my 
glory  rejoiceth ;  my  flesh  also  shall  rest  in  hope. 
For  thou*  wilt  not  leave  my  soul  in  hell,  neither  wilt 
thou  suffer  thine  Holy  One  to  see  corruption." 
Yes — the  Redeemer  rose,  and  the  angels  rolled 
away  the  stone.  Afterward  Jesus  showed  himself 
in  His  glorified  body,  as  the  first  fruits  of  them  that 
slept,  and  comforted  the  disciples  for  forty  days  with 
tidings  of  the  Kingdom  and  promises  of  the  Spirit. 
Then  he  ascended  from  the  mountain  top  convoyed 
by  angelic  squadrons  back  to  the  everlasting 
throne.  Methinks  as  that  radiant  procession  is 
winding  through  the  stars,  I  see  the  angels  throw- 
ing down  their  palms,  and  spreading  their  garments 
in  the  way.  I  hear  the  voice  of  the  archangel 
shouting  out  to  the  watchers  at  the  gates  of  pearl, 
*'  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord.  Hosanna  in  the  highest.  Open  your  gates, 
tune  all  your  harps,  and  give  the  Victor  way!" 
Then  a  million  angels  shout,  "  Lift  up  your  heads, 
O  ye  gates  ;  and  be  ye  lifted  up,  ye  everlasting 
doors ;  and  the  King  of  glory  shall  come  in." 
Hark!  a  solitary  voice,  but  so  clear  and  musical 


Seen  of  Angels.  yy 

that  it  is  heard  throughout  the  stars,  comes  from  the 
Warden  of  the  pearly  gates,  "  Who  is  this  King  of 
glory?"  Then  rolls  back  the  music-thunder  of  the 
cherubim,  "  The  Lord  strong  and  mighty,  the  Lord 
mighty  in  battle.  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates; 
even  lift  them  up,  ye  everlasting  doors  ;  and  the 
King  of  glory  shall  come  in." 

My  brethren,  zve  have  never  seen  the  Savior  with 
the  bodily  eye.  We  sometimes  wish  that  we  could 
have  touched  the  hem  of  His  garment,  supped  with 
Him  at  Bethany,  or  heard  Him  preach  upon  the 
mountain  of  Beatitudes.  But  I  am  persuaded  that 
we  are  better  off.  Not  many  of  the  Jews  believed 
on  Him.  Volney  became  an  infidel  even  while 
visiting  Bethlehem  and  Calvary.  The  distance  of 
eighteen  centuries  glorifies  Him  in  our  eyes,  and 
faith,  in  proportion  to  its  more  vigorous  exercise,  is 
rewarded  with  a  corresponding  blessing.  There- 
fore Jesus  said  unto  Thomas,  desiring  to  see  and 
put  his  fingers  into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  thrust 
his  hand  into  the  wounded  side,  '*  Thomas,  because 
thou  hast  seen  me  thou  hast  believed  ;  blessed  are 
they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed." 

We  are  better  Christians  because  we  have  not 
seen  the  Savior.  We  have  more  faith.  We  inherit 
the  blessing. 

We  shall  see  Christ.  Yes,  we  shall  see  Him  as 
St.  John  saw  Him,  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Father: 


yS  Sermons. 

We  shall  hear  Him  say,  "  Fear  not,  I  am  he  that 
liveth  and  was  dead  ;  and  behold,  I  am  alive  for 
evermore."  We  shall  hear  with  our  own  ears  the 
angels,  and  the  living  creatures,  and  the  elders,  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousand,  and  thousands  of 
thousands,  saying  with  a  loud  voice,  "Worthy  is 
the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  power,  and 
riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honor,  and 
glory,  and  blessing." 

We  shall  see  Christ  at  the  judgment  bar  of  the 
universe.  He  will  be  seated  on  the  throne  of 
Heaven.  His  voice  will  thrill  the  soul  like  the 
voice  of  many  waters.  His  countenance  shall  be 
as  the  sun  shineth  in  his  strength.  Every  eye  shall 
see  Him  then.  The  wicked  will  not  desire  to  look 
on  Him  ;  but  they  shall  look  on  Him  whom  they 
have  pierced.  "  They  shall  say  to  the  mountains, 
Cover  us  ;  and  to  the  hills.  Fall  on  us."  They  will 
fall  down  at  his  feet  as  dead  men.  Then  will 
they  be  left  to  their  own  desire  ;  they  will  never  see 
Christ  any  more. 

But  the  Christian  on  that  awful  day,  will  retain 
unshaken  confidence  in  the  love  of  his  Redeemer. 
He  will  see  Him  with  wonder  and  with  joy.  One 
glance  will  fill  to  fullness  all  the  fountains  of  his 
being.  His  eyes  will  follow  Him  through  all  the 
countless  throng.  And  now  the  eyes  of  Christ  fall 
on  him  with  majestic  tenderness.     The  ocean  tones 


Seen  of  Angels.  79 

are  mellowed  to  a  silvery  softness,  "  Oh,  blessed  of 
my  Father,  you  think  you  have  never  seen  my  face 
before."  "  No,  Lord,  never  before."  "  But  you  have 
seen  me.  I  have  been  seen  of  angels,  and  I  have  been 
seen  of  you.  You  have  entertained  me  unawares. 
You  poured  wine  and  oil  into  my  wounds.  You 
gave  me  living  waters.  You  clothed  me  with 
beautiful  garments.  You  sympathized  v/ith  me 
in  person,  when  all  the  world  turned  their  backs 
upon  me." 

*^  Thee,  Lord  "i  When  saw  we  thee  an  hungered 
and  fed  thee,  or  thirsty  and  gave  thee  drink  .^  When 
saw  we  thee  a  stranger,  or  naked,  or  sick  or  in 
prison  and  ministered  unto  Thee  r  Then  the 
King  shall  answer  with  a  welcome  smile,  "  Ye  did 
it  unto  the  beggar,  the  soldier,  the  slave.  Inas- 
much as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me.  You 
saw  me,  but  did  not  know  me  ;  henceforth  you  shall 
both  see  me  and  know  me.  On  earth  you  saw  me  in 
my  sorrow  ;  now  you  shall  see  me  in  my  joy.  On 
earth  you  saw  me  in  my  humility  ;  now  you  see 
me  in  my  glory.  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father  ; 
hereafter  your  eyes  shall  feast  forever  on  the  angels' 
vision  of  Christ." 


GIVING    THE    HEART, 


GIVING  THE  HEART. 


<*  My  son,  give  me  thine  heart," 

Proverbs,  xxm.  29. 

In  speaking  to  you,  my  brethren,  from  this  direct 
and  emphatic  command  of  God,  I  shall  first  briefly 
explain  what  is  meant  by  the  command,  and  then 
speak  more  at  length  of  the  reasons  for  obedience, 

I.  What  are  v^e  to  understand  by  giving  God 
the  heart .?  Let  us  consider  what  is  not  meant  by 
it, 

(i)  It  is  not  meant  that  we  should  live  in  gross 
and  open  violation  of  God's  commandments. 

There  are  in  every  considerable  community  hun- 
dreds of  persons  smitten  with  a  moral  leprosy. 
Their  characters  are  hideous  and  unclean  even  in 
the  sight  of  men.  Born  with  evil  propensities 
which  have  germinated  in  the  hot-beds  of  igno- 
rance, poverty  and  social  neglect,  they  have  long 
lost  all  the  restraining  influences  which  surround 
the  Christian  household.  They  take  pleasure 
in  those  that  do  evil.     They  work  in  the  night. 


84  Sermons, 

They  glory  in  their  shame.  If  they  have  any  idea 
of  worship,  it  is  the  worship  of  the  devil.  They 
blaspheme  the  name  of  God,  profane  His  day,  hate 
His  sanctuary,  despise  His  ordinances,  malign  His 
servants,  abhor  all  that  is  good,  live  without  God 
and  without  hope  in  the  world.  These  certainly 
do  not  obey  the  exhortation  of  the  text,  "  My  son, 
give  me  thy  heart. 

(2)  Again,  it  cannot  mean  that  we  are  to 
devote  our  principal  energies  to  the  acquisition  of 
wealth  and  the  pursuit  of  pleasure. 

Take  for  example  the  first  class,  those  who  are 
making  haste  to  become  rich,  and  witness  their 
actions  and  true  character.  You  behold  them  like 
men  in  a  race.  See  them  run !  Every  eye  is 
fixed,  every  nerve  excited,  every  muscle  strained 
and  tense.  They  have  no  time  nor  thought  for 
anything,  but  to  reach  the  goal  before  their 
rivals.  So  the  worldly  man  is  occupied  with 
business  and  plans.  Even  the  hours  of  relaxa- 
tion for  food  and  sleep  are  encroached  upon. 
The  claims  of  God  in  benevolence  are  utterly 
disregarded.  The  day  which  divine  mercy  has 
furnished  to  break  the  spell  of  the  world's  en- 
chantment, is  employed  in  finishing  up  the  busi- 
ness of  the  week,  or  in  recuperating  the  ex- 
hausted energies  of  mind  and  body,  not  for 
heavenly  service  but  for  the  excitement  and  toil 


Giving  the  HeQft.  85 

of  the  coming  week  of  worldliness.  It  is  safe 
to  say  that  there  are  thousands  of  such  men 
who  do  not  even  think  of  God  from  one  weeks' 
end  to  the  other,  and  who  therefore  cannot 
obey  the  command  to  give  Him  their  hearts. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  devotee  of 
pleasure.  What  he  considers  as  the  main  end 
of  hfe  is  the  pleasure  of  sin,  the  exclusive 
gratification  of  sense ;  or,  if  he  is  of  more  refined 
character,  the  exclusive  gratification  of  taste. 
Such  men  seek  only  for  happiness  ;  therefore  they 
seek  not  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His 
righteousness.  The  word  of  God  is  to  them  a 
sealed  book  like  the  rolls  of  the  apocalypse.  If 
they  think  of  God  at  all,  it  is  only  to  banish 
Him  from  their  meditations,  as  the  skeleton  at 
their  festal  board.  They  enjoy  no  communion 
with  Him  in  prayer.  They  take  no  interest  in 
religious  concerns,  but  esteem  them  dull  and 
unworthy  the  attention  of  one  who  is  occupied 
in  yachts  and  horses,  billiards,  music  and  fash- 
ionable parties.  They  themselves  would  not 
wish  it  for  a  moment  to  be  mentioned,  in  their 
select  circle,  that  they  had  given  their  hearts  to 
God. 

(3)  Once  more,  it  cannot  mean  that  we  are 
to  offer  to  God  a  mechanical  and  formal  rever- 
ence  and   service.     It   cannot   mean   baptism,   or 


S6  Sermons. 

confirmation,  or  external  union  with  a  church. 
It  cannot  mean  the  reading  of  the  scriptures 
without  the  love  of  them,  or  hurried  and  formal 
prayers  repeated  from  habit  and  interrupted  by 
everything  else.  It  cannot  mean  regular  at- 
tendance  upon  worship  for  the  sake  of  decency 
or  custom,  display  or  acquaintance,  for  musical 
gratification  or  intellectual  titillation.  For  this 
is  the  precise  description  of  those  spoken  of  by  the 
prophet  Isaiah,  who  draw  near  to  God  with  their 
lips  while  they  have  removed  their  heart  far  from 
Him.  These  may  have  given  God  many  externali- 
ties and  proprieties,  but  this  surely  is  not  giving 
Him  the  heart. 

(4)  We  can  ascertain  the  force  of  the  injunction 
of  the  text  by  taking  a  plain  illustration.  A  sol- 
dier  has  been  away  to  the  war  forced  upon  us 
by  armed  traitors.  He  has  for  long  months  en- 
dured wet  and  heat,  cold  and  hunger,  and  has  run 
constant  risks  of  mutilation  and  awful  death.  He 
has  not  done  this  for  the  pay,  for  he  might  have 
earned  much  more  in  comfort  and  safety  at  home. 
But  he  did  it  because  he  loved  his  country,  be- 
cause beneath  the  outward  service  there  throbbed 
a  patriot's  heart.  His  whole  soul  is  in  the  contest, 
and  therefore  when  the  enemy  invades  the  borders 
of  a  sister  state,  he  hastens  off  again  before  he  has 
had  time  to  rest,  gives  up  home  and  its  affections, 


Giving  the  Heart,  Zj 

business,  comfort,  everything,  that  he  may  give  his 
strength  and  courage  and  life,  if  need  be,  for  the  sal- 
vation of  his  imperiled  country.  He  makes  coun- 
try first,  his  own  interest  last.  He  makes  all  else 
subordinate  to  patriotic  duty.  Like  one  of  the 
youthful  heroes  of  the  Revolution,  he  laments  that 
he  has  only  one  life  to  give  for  liberty.  He  gives 
liberty  his  heart. 

What  the  patriot  does  in  an  inferior  degree  for 
his  country,  we  are  called  upon  by  the  language  of 
the  text  to  do  for  our  God.  We  are  to  love  Him, 
honor  Him  and  serve  Him  with  all  the  strength 
and  enthusiasm  of  our  lives.  As  it  is  a  joy  for  us 
to  diffuse  our  affections  upon  the  sacred  objects 
which  are  included  in  the  circle  of  home,  so  it  is  to 
be  our  highest  privilege,  blessing,  happiness  and 
glory,  to  fasten  our  thought,  lavish  our  love  and 
center  our  life  far  away  from  self,  far  higher  than 
the  world's  confusion  and  pollution,  upon  Him  who 
is  our  dwelling-place  in  all  generations,  the  eternal 
rest  and  home  of  His  people.  In  view  of  our  duty 
no  less  than  of  our  privilege  and  glory,  we  are  to 
love  the  Lord  our  God  with  all  the  heart,  with  all 
the  soul,  and  with  all  the  strength.  And  this  love 
is  not  to  be  a  mere  sentimental  emotion,  barren  in 
all  influence  upon  the  life,  but  an  active,  burning, 
hearty  love,  consecrating  all  our  hopes  to  God,  ac- 
knowledging Him  as  our  only  portion,  renouncing 


88  Sermons. 

all  sinful  courses  which  may  grieve  the  Spirit, 
identifying  ourselves  with  all  God-like  works  and 
opportunities,  holding  perpetual  communion  with 
the  Father  in  the  way  of  His  appointment,  gladly 
confessing  Christ  before  men  and  angels,  and  re- 
cording our  names  in  that  Zion  which  He  loves 
more  than  all  the  dwellings  of  Jacob  ;  until  the 
devout  experience  of  the  Christian  shall  be  best 
expressed  in  the  earnest  feeling  of  the  Psalmist, 
"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee,  and  there  is 
none  upon  the  earth  that  I  desire  beside  thee." 

This  full,  free  offering  of  our  love,  our  homage 
and  our  obedience,  is  what  is  meant  by  giving 
God  our  hearts. 

H.  The  first  reason  which  I  shall  assign  to 
enforce  the  duty  of  giving  God  the  heart,  is  that  by 
this  alone  the  rightful  claims  of  God  can  be  satisfied. 

(i)  If  the  Divine  Being  has  any  claims  upon  us,  and 
these  claims  are  just  and  right,  then  it  must  follow 
that  we  ought  at  once  to  appreciate  and  liquidate 
them.  We  ought  then  to  give  God  our  heart,  be- 
cause He  is  worthy  to  be  loved  on  account  of  the 
excellence  of  His  character.  The  account  which 
history  furnishes  us  of  such  personages  as  Howard 
and  Washington  is  sufficient  to  excite  our  admira- 
tion and  affection,  and  call  forth  all  the  enthusiasm 
of  a  noble  nature.  Were  they  now  to  appear  again 
upon  the  stage  of  existence,  the  world  would  shake 


Giving  the  Heart.  89 

with  the  welcome  we  should  give  them.  Our 
hearts  would  swell,  our  eyes  would  fill,  and  we 
should  be  ready  at  any  sacrifice  to  contribute  to 
their  enjoyment.  But  all  the  excellence  and  worth 
of  these  illustrious  characters  was  derived  from  God, 
and  bears  no  more  proportion  to  the  eternal  fullness 
of  all  that  is  glorious  and  lovable  than  does  the 
vapor  of  the  morning  to  the  depths  that  stretch 
from  pole  to  pole.  If  then  we  give  our  spontane- 
ous devotion  to  worthy  mortals  who  borrow  their 
excellence,  as  the  planets  shine  clothed  not  in  their 
own  original  brightness,  but  in  the  infinite  splen- 
dors of  the  sun,  then  much  more,  incalculably 
more,  should  our  homage  and  our  hearts  be  given 
to  Him  who  comprises  and  communicates  all  the 
radiance  of  the  moral  universe,  the  Father  of  lights, 
from  whom  cometh  every  good  and  perfect  gift,  with 
whom  is  no  variableness  neither  shadow  of  turning. 
(2)  But  I  remark  again  that  God  has  a  claim 
upon  our  hearts  because  He  is  our  Ruler.  As  I 
have  said  already, -the  giving  of  the  heart  includes 
love,  homage  and  obedience.  It  is  not  a  debateable 
question  with  us  at  the  present  time  that  loyalty  is 
a  virtue,  that  disloyalty  is  a  crime,  that  the  alle- 
giance and  devotion  of  every  subject  is  due  and 
ought  to  be  given,  at  whatever  hazard  and  sacrifice, 
to  that  rugged  patriot  who  was  constitutionally  elec- 
ted by  the  people  to  uphold  the  liberties,  perpetuate 


90  Sermons. 

the  blessings  and  defend  the  integrity  and  life  of 
the  regal  nation  committed  to  his  keeping.  The 
President  is  no  longer  a  simple  citizen.  He  is  the 
delegated  will  of  twenty  millions  of  freemen,  he  sits 
upon  the  proudest  throne  of  earth,  he  is  the  vicege- 
rent of  the  Almighty's  sovereignty  and  is  invested 
with  all  the  sanctities  of  liberty  and  law.  Resist- 
ance to  him  is  rebellion,  anarchy,  national  dissolu- 
tion, treason  to  the  world's  best  interests ;  and  he 
therefore,  in  his  public  capacity  as  ruler,  has  a  right- 
ful claim  upon  our  allegiance  and  service. 

You  see  now  the  force  of  the  comparison.  God 
is  the  fountain  of  all  governments,  the  ground  and 
center  of  all  law.  Upon  His  shoulders  hangs  the 
key.  The  worlds  roll  at  His  bidding.  The  princi- 
palities of  Heaven  fall  down  before  His  feet.  On 
his  head  are  many  crowns,  and  He  hath  on  His  ves- 
ture and  on  His  thigh  a  name  written,  "King  of 
Kings  and  Lord  of  Lords." 

We  therefore  as  subjects  of  the  divine  sover- 
eignty, as  loyal  citizens  of  His  empire,  are  in  justice 
and  in  honor  bound  to  respect  His  authority  and  to 
keep  His  commandments,  always  and  everywhere  to 
obey  His  will  whether  recorded  in  the  statute  book 
of  revelation  or  writen  by  the  pen  of  conscience 
upon  the  tablet  of  our  souls.  In  this  most  moment- 
ous relation  which  mortals  sustain  to  God,  indiffer- 
ence to  the  divine  will  is  disobedience,  and  disobe- 


Giving  ike  Heart,  91 

dience  is  rebellion,  and  rebellion  is  treason  toward 
God  and  anarchy  in  all  God's  moral  dominions. 
God  therefore,  as  the  Supreme  Ruler,  has  a  right  to 
demand  of  you  as  a  subject  your  homage  and  obe- 
dience, and  it  is  the  great  crowning  sin  of  your  life 
that  you  keep  back  your  heart's  allegiance.  O 
loyal  patriots  !  be  fathful  to  your  obligations  to  the 
Celestial  Sovereign.  Be  true  to  your  country,  but 
be  true  to  your  God.  Render  unto  Caesar  the 
things  which  are  Caesar's,  but  render  unto  God  the 
things  which  are  God's. 

(3)  There  is  another  claim  which  the  Lord  has 
upon  your  heart.  It  is  one  which  you  recognize  as 
binding  with  most  sacred  obligation  in  all  other 
cases.  It  is  a  Father  s  claim.  I  appeal  to  the  ten- 
derest,  truest  feelings  of  your  nature  and  ask 
whether  the  best  affection  and  devotion  of  which 
you  are  capable  are  not  due  from  you  to  the  Being 
without  whom  you  would  have  had  no  existence  } 
The  watchful  parent  who  has  supplied  every  bodily 
and  mental  want,  who  has  made  the  greatest  per- 
sonal sacrifices  for  your  comfort  and  enjoyment, 
who  has  thought  it  not  too  much  to  outwatch  the 
stars  by  your  bedside  in  the  lonely  chamber,  and 
hung  over  you  in  your  sickness  as  if  he  would  eke 
out  your  life  with  his,  whose  indulgence  overlooked 
a  thousand  acts  of  disobedience,  whose  happiness 
was  your  happiness,  who  said,  "  Son,  thou  art  ever 


92  Sermons. 

with  me  and  all  that  I  have  is  thine,"  —  what 
would  you  think,  I  ask  you  in  the  name  of  com- 
mon humanity,  what  would  you  think  of  the  son, 
bearing  the  image  of  his  father  and  called  by  his 
name,  in  whom  all  this  wealth  of  tenderness  and 
self-sacrifice  and  affection  awakened  no  responsive 
emotion  of  love ;  who  heard  with  the  stolid  ear 
of  indifference  the  most  precious  tokens  of  pa- 
rental yearning,  who  took  an  aversion  to  communion 
with  his  father,  who  had  not  the  least  appreciation 
of  anything  that  his  father  had  done  for  his  welfare, 
who  followed  his  own  whims  and  deliberately 
violated  the  express  wishes  of  his  father ;  nay, 
who  had  sunk  to  such  a  depth  of  baseness,  hard- 
heartedness  and  filial  ingratitude  as  to  take  a 
fiendish  delight  in  disobeying  him,  insulting  him, 
grieving  him,  lifting  up  his  wretched  hand  to  strike 
the  love  that  gave  him  life — what  do  you  think  of 
such  a  monster  as  that  ? 

Ah !  poor  sinner,  thou  art  the  man  !  All  that 
the  wickedness  of  that  inhuman  son  has  done  to 
his  dearest  earthly  relative,  you  have  perpetrated 
toward  your  Heavenly  Father.  You  have  forgotten 
Him,  despised  Him,  insulted  Him,  grieved  Him — 
yes,  crucified  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  by  your 
life  of  worldliness,  indifference  and  sin,  and  I 
put  it  to  your  own  conscience,  is  it  right  ?  Is 
it  right  for  you  to   do  it  ?     Is   it  right  for  you 


Giving  the  Heart.  93 

to  live  day  after  day,  year  after  year,  in  con- 
tinued, deliberate,  and  wilful  violation  of  your 
Heavenly  Father's  wishes  ?  Is  it  right  ?  Out 
of  your  own  mouth  will  I  condem  you.  Is  it 
right  ?  Are  you  a  son,  or  are  you  a  filial  mon- 
ster ?  Is  there  any  dark-browed  wretch  that  slinks 
in  the  corners  of  creation  baser,  meaner,  more  un- 
naturally wicked  than  the  parricide  who  stretches 
forth  his  puny  arm  to  drag  his  father  from  the 
throne  of  the  universe  ?  Ah,  brethren,  it  is  bad 
enough  to  be  a  traitor,  to  sin  against  the  rightful 
authority  of  Heaven's  king  and  sovereign.  Even 
then  we  should  deserve  all  the  gnavvings  of  a  trai- 
tor's doom  ;  but  to  rise  up  in  opposition  to  our 
Father,  to  Him  who  gave  us  life  and  breath  and  all 
things,  in  whom  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  be- 
ing, who  has  healed  all  our  diseases,  forgiven  our 
iniquities,  made  our  cup  to  run  over  with  His  good* 
ness  and  fitted  up  eternal  mansions  stored  for  us 
with  all  that  can  minister  to  our  joy  and  rapture 
throughout  the  fruition  of  eternity- — this — this — 
there  is  nothing  like  this  to  be  found  in  annals  of 
human  history  !  This  is  left  for  the  sinner  to  ac- 
complish toward  the  holy,  majestic  and  all  loving 
Being  who  is  our  Father  and  our  God,  and  who 
exclaims  in  the  mingled  cadence  of  authority  and 
affection,  "  My  son,  give  me  thine  heart." 
III. — I  remark  in  the  next  place,  that  to  give  God 


94  Sermons. 

the  heart  is  the  only  way  to  obtain  happiness  and 
peace. 

This  proposition  must  follow  from  what  has 
been  already  stated.  For  he  who  delights  not  in 
the  excellence  of  the  Divine  Being,  he  who  as  a 
subject  is  disloyal  and  as  a  son  is  ungrateful  and 
disobedient,  cannot  by  the  constitution  of  the 
human  mind  attain  to  any  permanent  and  real  hap- 
piness.    Let  us  explain  this  still  further. 

There  are  in  this  world,  and  inferentially  in  all 
worlds,  certain  arrangements  and  adaptations  of 
means  to  ends,  which  in  the  inanimate  world  pro- 
duce perfect  harmony,  and  in  the  spiritual  realm 
are  necessary  to  produce  that  harmony  of  the  soul 
which  is  happiness.  Thus,  the  camel  was  made 
for  the  desert,  the  shaggy  bear  for  the  polar  ice ; 
the  fin  of  the  fish  presupposes  the  existence  of 
water,  and  the  wing  of  the  eagle  the  more  etherial 
element  through  which  it  may  cleave  its  way.  The 
camel  cannot  be  happy  away  from  its  tropic  sands, 
nor  the  polar  bear  from  his  native  icebergs.  The 
fish  will  die  when  taken  from  the  ocean.  The  eagle 
with  its  wings  fettered  will  pine  in  its  dungeon  and 
long  for  the  eyrie  far  up  in  the  crags  and  storm; 
This  is  the  law  of  their  being. 

In  mart  we  firtd  the  same  necessities  developed 
in  higher  manifestations.  He  has  a  physical  or- 
ganisation which  was  made  for  food  and  drink  to 


Giving  the  Heart.  95 

supply  the  waste  of  life.  This  demand  of  the  body 
cannot  be  left  unsatisfied  without  a  sense  of  pain 
which  is  called  hunger  or  thirst.  If  the  pain  is 
long  continued  it  becomes  torture.  With  gaunt 
and  famished  features,  emaciated  limbs,  exhausted 
nervous  energy  and  delirious  brain,  the  unhappy 
sufferer  falls  a  prey  to  an  agonizing  death  by  star- 
vation.    This  is  the  law  of  his  being. 

So  there  are  adaptations  and  necessities  of  the 
higher  nature  which  cannot  be  violated  with  im- 
punity. Man  is  a  social  being,  and  if  he  shut 
himself  up  in  solitude  like  a  monk  in  his  cell,  he 
does  violence  to  the  laws  of  his  mind,  and  must 
experience  misery.  For  man  was  made  for  man : 
this  is  the  law  of  his  being. 

Once  more,  man  is  endowed  with  an  intellectual 
nature.  He  has  a  constitutional  desire  for  knowl- 
edge. The  child  will  ask  countless  questions. 
The  man  longs  to  understand  difficulties  and  pene- 
trate mysteries,  on  and  on,  without  weariness  or 
satiety.  If  you  deprive  him  of  knowledge,  or  of 
the  power  of  attaining  it,  it  is  as  if  you  put  out  his 
eyes  and  then  left  him  in  the  midst  of  fragrant 
gardens  with  rivers  of  beauty  murmuring  beneath 
the  foliage  of  the  trees  of  life.  The  blind  man  will 
pine  for  the  vision  of  nature  and  the  glance  of  love. 
And  so  the  inquisitive  student  shut  out  from  the 
sources  of  truth  will  become  the  most  miserable  of 


96  Sermons, 

mortals.  He  is  exultant  when  he  can  revel  among 
the  fair  pages  of  creation  and  ransack  the  glorious 
world  of  books  ;  for  this  is  the  law  of  his  being. 

Now  in  precisely  the  same  manner  man  is  a 
religions  being,  and  was  made  for  communion  with 
God.  I  may  say  with  truthfulness  that  this  is  the 
one  great  end  to  which  all  others  are  subordinate, 
that  man  should  expend  his  powers  and  faculties 
upon  eternal  realities,  and  drink  in  from  the  inex- 
haustible fountain  of  infinite  love  and  truth.  If 
therefore  the  minor  adaptations  of  our  being  can* 
not  be  violated  with  impunity  and  without  inflict- 
ing a  pang  upon  the  nature  which  is  violated,  then 
how  much  more  this  great  and  all-comprehensive 
adaptation  of  the  soul  to  religion  and  to  God  must 
be  known,  appreciated,  and  consummated  before  we 
can  experience  happiness  or  peace.  Therefore  in 
strictest  accordance  with  the  philosophy  of  the 
human  mind  the  Scriptures  declare,  "  There  is  no 
peace  saith  my  God,  to  the  wicked."  Can  t"he  fish 
gasping  on  the  sand  experience  its  tiny  sum  of  hap- 
piness }  Is  there  peace  to  the  imprisoned  eagle 
gazing  in  sorrow  at  the  blue  and  boundless  sky  ? 
ease  of  body  to  the  lonely  mariner  starving  on  the 
wreck }  peace  of  mind  to  the  blinded  scholar 
groping  after  knowledge  and  finding  it  not }  How 
then  can  the  soul  that  was  made  for  God  be  satis- 
fied until  it  finds  Him  ?   If  a  man  cannot  rest  when 


Giving  the  Heart.  97 

hungering  for  the  food  which  perisheth,  how  can  he 
rest  when  hungering  for  glory  and  immortality  ?  If 
the  soul  does  not  fill  up  the  measure  of  its  joy  until  it 
has  found  an  earthly  object  around  which  its  affec- 
tions may  cling  and  fasten,  how  can  it  fill  up  the  frui- 
tion of  its  blessedness  until  it  has  found  the  heavenly 
love  for  which  it  is  ever  sighing  as  the  shell  is 
moaning  for  the  sea  ?  Ah,  my  brethren,  I  do  not 
wish  to  make  an  argument  stronger  than  you  your- 
selves can  make  for  me.  I  appeal  to  your  own 
truthful  consciousness,  and  ask  you  who  have  not 
yet  given  your  hearts  to  God,  to  tell  me  if  you  are 
happy  ?  You  have  intelligence  and  education,  but 
are  you  truly  happy?  You  have  wealth  and  in- 
fluence, applause  and  fame,  but  are  you  happy  ? 
You  arc  encircled  by  the  loving  arms  of  laughing 
children,  and  your  home  is  luminous  with  the  smile 
of  welcome  kindred,  but  are  you  as  happy  as  you 
desire  to  be  ?  as  happy  as  you  were  made  to  be  ? 
Do  you  not  turn  away  from  the  possession  of  the 
present  as  from  a  faded  flower,  and  dream  of  othef 
plans  and  possibilities  of  happiness  ?  Does  no 
sense  of  the  vanity  of  all  created  things  ever  steal 
over  you  in  the  flush  of  spring,  the  pomp  of  sum- 
mer, or  amid  the  faded  leaves  of  autumn  ?  Do  you 
want  no  heavenly  guidance  amid  the  tangled  mazes 
of  existence  ?  No  divine  strength  in  the  hour  of 
human  Weakness  when  you  would  do  good  and  evil 

S 


98  Sermons. 

is  present  with  you  ?  Do  you  not  long  for  sym- 
pathy and  comfort  such  as  mortals  cannot  give, 
when  you  are  almost  crushed  by  the  pressure  of 
affliction  ?  Do  you  not  long  for  forgiveness  and 
purity,  and  for  one  hour  of  solid,  uninterrupted, 
celestial  peace.  Would  you  not  give  all  preceding 
pleasure  to  be  able  to  shout  out  v/ith  the  apostle, 
"  Thanks  be  unto  God  for  His  unspeakable  gift  ? " 
Ah !  you  have  been  wrong,  all  wrong.  You  were 
made  with  boundless  capacities  and  you  have  been 
trying  to  satisfy  them  with  a  handful  of  chaff. 
Your  heart  is  large  enough  for  the  Creator,  and 
you  have  thought  to  fill  it  with  the  created.  If  a 
man  ask  for  fish  will  you  give  him  a  scorpion  .'*  If 
he  is  hungry  for  want  of  bread  will  you  give  him  a 
stone  1  Yet  you  have  been  famishing  for  religion 
and  eating  the  scorpions  of  sin  ;  hungering  after 
heaven  and  stuffing  yourself  with  the  stones  of 
earth  ;  starving  for  God  and  yet  turning  away  with 
indifference  from  the  bread  of  life.  O  poor 
wretched,  infatuated  souls,  cease  your  wandering 
and  come  where  happiness  is  only  to  be  found  ! 
God  is  all  you  want  to  fill  up  the  great  vacuum  of 
your  hearts  and  give  you  the  joy  of  Christ,  the 
peace  that  passeth  all  understanding.  You  may 
say  that  you  are  happy ;  you  may  cry  *'  peace, 
peace,"  but  there  is  no  peace,  saith  the  Lord,  to  the 
wicked.     I  am  only  reiterating  the  words  of  your 


Givhtg  the  Heart.  99 

Creator  when  I  tell  you  that  it  is  so ;  that  you 
never  can  experience  one  hour  of  substantial  peace 
and  happiness  until  you  are  in  harmony  with  the 
laws  of  your  spiritual  life,  and  find  your  rest  and 
joy  in  God.  Your  spiritual  nature  is  too  vast  to  be 
happy.  It  must  be  filled,  not  with  the  vanities  of 
earth  and  time,  but  with  all  the  fullness  of  celestial 
love.  Yes,  God  is  all  we  want.  "  Thou,  O  God, 
hast  made  us  for  thyself,  and  our  souls  cannot  rest 
until  they  rest  in  Thee." 

I  remark  as  a  final  consideration  that  giving  the 
heart  to  God  is  the  only  preparation  for  death  and 
eternity. 

Were  the  curtain  of  eternity  this  night  to  be  un- 
rolled, and  we  could  see  depicted  upon  the  wall  the 
names  of  those  who  soon  are  to  pass  away  from 
earth  and  lie  down  in  the  darkness  of  the  sepulcher, 
how  every  eye  would  be  fixed  upon  the  mysterious 
canvas  !  But  your  dissolution  is  as  sure  to  come  as 
if  the  angel  of  death  were  to  stand  upon  the  plat- 
form and  call  out  each  of  you  by  name.  The  knell, 
the  pall,  the  bier,  the  grave,  the  clatter  of  the  clods, 
the  stifled  groan  of  agonizing  kindred,  the  midnight 
blackness,  these  are  strange  and  solemn  things. 
But  in  a  little  while  every  one  whom  I  behold  this 
night  will  be  called  upon  to  experience  them.  Re- 
joice not,  O  young  man,  in  thy  strength,  nor  woman 
in  thy  beauty,  nor  old  man  in  thy  wisdom,  nor  rich 


too  Sermons, 

man  in  thy  riches,  nor  cunning  man  in  thy  crafti- 
ness !  Sheol  is  stronger  than  ye  all.  Death  shall 
feed  upon  thee  with  ever-ravening  maw. 

Another  year  may  be  the  last  year  of  earth, 
another  month,  another  week.  It  may  be  this  very 
night  your  soul  shall  be  required  of  you,  and  the 
angels  are  watching  for  your  last  flickering  pulse 
and  parting  breath.  And  after  death,  in  that  first 
awful  moment  when,  parted  from  the  flesh,  you  shall 
stand  a  disembodied  spirit  in  the  presence  of  that 
Being  whom  you  have  never  seen,  whose  holy  re- 
quirements you  have  despised  from  the  beginning 
of  your  life  to  the  end  of  it,  whom  the  Revelator  saw 
standing  in  the  midst  of  the  seven  golden  candle- 
sticks, His  head  and  hairs  like  wool,  as  white  as 
snow.  His  eyes  like  a  flame  of  fire,  His  feet  like 
unto  fine  brass.  His  voice  as  the  sound  of  many 
waters  and  His  countenance  as  the  sun  shining  in 
his  strength,  so  that  the  holy  apostle  fell  at  His 
feet  as  dead, — oh  !  poor,  polluted,  death  struck 
sinner,  are  you  ready  for  the  meeting  ?  Even  good 
men  require  all  the  grace  of  God,  the  ministry  of 
angels  and  the  sympathy  of  Jesus  to  turn  death 
into  victory.  And  are  you  ready  to  take  your  leap 
into  the  dark  \  If  the  righteous  are  scarcely  saved, 
where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear  t 

By  the  worthiness  and  excellence  of  God  ;  by 
His   rightful  claims   upon  you   as  Ruler,  Father, 


Giving  the  Heart,  loi 

Benefactor;  by  your  own  present  happiness  and 
peace  ;  by  the  horrors  of  a  Christless  deathbed  ;  by 
the  solemnity  of  seeing  God ;  by  the  vision  of  the 
coming  judgment ;  by  the  sinner's  everlasting 
doom, — I  beseech  of  you,  my  brethren,  to  give  God 
your  heart  to-night.  Give  it  unreservedly.  Give  it 
freely.  Give  it  to  Him  forever.  And  as  that 
heavenly,  holy,  paternal  voice,  in  these  sacred 
moments  of  the  lingering  Sabbath  freighted  with 
the  destiny  of  immortal  souls,  is  saying  to  you, 
"  My  son,  give  me  thine  heart,"  Oh  that  in  the 
silence,  unheard  by  all  but  God,  might  fall  the  filial 
utterance,  "  Father,  I  give  Thee  thine !  I  can 
withhold  no  longer.     Forgive  my  sin.     Accept  my 

life." 

"  Trone  to  wander,  Lord  I  feel  it, 
Prone  to  leave  the  God  I  love  ; 
Here's  my  heart,  oh  take  and  seal  it, 
Seal  it  for  thy  courts  above  !" 


THE 

WITNESS  FOR  THE  TRUTH 


THE  WITNESS    FOR  THE  TRUTH 


"  To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause  came  I  into  the 
world,  that  I  should  bear  witness  unto  the  truth." 

John  xviii.  37. 

There  is  in  the  realm  of  spirit  a  kingdom  of 
Truth  and  a  kingdom  of  Untruth.  Satan  is  en- 
throned in  one  and  Christ  reigns  lord  of  the  other. 
As  the  night  opposes  the  day  and  overcomes  it, 
and  then  the  morning  giant  with  his  solar  spear 
pierces  the  heart  of  midnight  and  scatters  the 
guerilla  bands  of  twilight  that  would  fain  defend 
their  ebon  ruler,  till  at  last,  invested  with  its  mantle 
of  glory  and  stretching  its  sceptre  over  the  globe 
from  east  to  west,  the  victorious  sun  is  hailed  as 
king  by  the  adoration  of  flower  and  bird  and  man, 
—so  in  the  spiritual  world  there  is  to  be  a  corre- 
sponding victory.  The  light  of  heaven  is  to  dis- 
perse the  gloom  of  earth.  The  prince  of  darkness 
is  to  be  bound  in  chains,  and  the  archangel  of 
Truth,  with  the  sharp  sword  of  the  Almighty,  is  to 
hold  him  prisoner  till  the  eternal  judgment. 

As  Jesus  stands  before  the  bar  of  Pilate,  he  sets 


io6  Sermons. 

forth  his  cUim  to  royalty.  My  kingdom,  says  the 
divine  prisoner,  is  not  of  this  world.  Pilate 
answers  with  the  queston,  "Art  thou  a  king  then  ?" 
To  this  Jesus  makes  response,  "  Thou  sayest  what 
I  am.  I  am  a  king.  I  have  a  kingdom.  It  is  not 
built  on  earthly  bases.  It  is  not  sustained  by  force. 
It  is  a  kingdom  of  principles,  of  moral  influences, 
of  divine  ideas,  regnant  in  the  character  and  life  of 
men.  All  that  obey  the  truth  are  my  subjects. 
For  this  royalty  I  was  crowned  before  the  world 
began.  In  divine  preexistence  I  was  the  King  of 
Truth.  To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause 
came  I  into  the  world,  that  I  might  bear  witness 
unto  the  truth." 

These  then  are  the  themes  suggested  for  our 
discourse,  viz.,  the  Truth,  Christ's  witness  for  it, 
and  its  claims  upon  us. 

We  may  enter  upon  the  subject  with  the  inquiry. 
What  is  the  truth  for  which  Christ  came  into  the 
world  as  witness  .^ 

We  do  not,  with  Pilate,  indifferent  to  spiritual 
realities  and  even  doubting  their  very  existence, 
exclaim  '*  What  is  truth  .?"  as  if  it  were  a  figment 
of  Jesus'  imagination, — and  then  pass  away  from 
Him  who  has  himself  the  crystal  truth,  without 
waiting  for  an  answer.  We  link  the  truth  with 
Jesus.  We  deem  it  as  vital  and  as  potent  as  the 
Christ,  as  real  as  the  very  anointed  God.    We  dis- 


The  Witness  for  the  Truth,  107 

cern  that  untruth  is  delusion  and  vanity  and  non- 
entity :  that  truth  is  the  fixed  pole  around  which 
all  moral  faculties  in  God  and  man  revolve :  that 
it  is  the  goal  toward  which  our  aspirations 
tend  :  that  it  is  the  throne  on  which  the  ransomed 
spirit  reigns  :  that  it  is  eternal,  regal  and  divine  : 
that  God  is  truth  and  truth  is  God, 

I. — Of  this  truth,  fatherless  and  motherless,  per- 
manent and  absolute,  Christ  is  the  incarnate  wit- 
ness. He  comes,  first,  to  declare  the  reality  cf 
things  invisible  to  men. 

Is  there  a  personal  God  creating  and  controlling 
men  t  Is  there  a  heaven  .'*  Is  there  a  hell  .^  Is 
there  an  existence  after  death  }  Are  there  indeed 
things  invisible,  inaudible — things  that  cannot  be 
touched  with  the  senses,  which  are  more  substan- 
tial than  flesh  or  rock,  which  men  were  born  to 
live  for  ?  Is  there  a  God  ?  Tell  us,  O  nature,  with 
thy  geometric  symphonies,  with  thy  world-encir- 
cling ocean,  with  thy  autumn  glories  and  thy  ver- 
nal wealth  of  flowers !  We  listen,  and  catch  a  dis- 
tant murmuring  sound  which  may  be  the  echo  of 
the  infinite ;  but  it  is  not  clear.  Tell  us,  O  soul, 
with  thine  aspirations  and  affinities  for  something 
diviner  than  the  coarse  life  of  men,  with  thy  subtle 
intuitions  and  clairvoyant  sympathies, — is  it  true 
there  is  a  God  }  But  the  harp  of  the  soul  is  string- 
less  and  discordant,  and  while  we  wait  for  its  utter- 


io8  Sermons. 

ance,  vague  sense  of  laws  and  mystery  environ  us. 
The  heavens  are  blank.  Our  prayers  are  empty 
breath.  The  din  of  the  world  is  deafening.  We 
bow  our  aching  heads  in  solitude  and  desolation, 
and  sigh  "  Peradventure  there  is  no  God." 

We  bend  our  weary  feet  to  the  cemetery  to  find 
the  flowers  that  mark  the  bed  in  which  the  sacred 
dust  is  sleeping.  Is  it  a  sleeping }  Shall  there 
ever  be  a  waking }  Is  this  hope  of  a  glorious  re- 
surrection which  finds  expression  over  the  doors 
of  the  vaults  a  reality }  or  a  delusion  to  be  oblit- 
erated, as  the  epitaphs  themselves  and  the  marble 
that  contains  them,  by  the  progress  of  the  ages  .'* 
And  what  of  heaven  .''  Is  it  the  sky  and  the  clouds 
heaved  up  above  us  }  Oh,  that  the  clouds  might 
scatter  and  the  sky  might  cleave,  that  we  might 
wander  in  the  stars  or  wherever  our  lost  treasures 
are,  and  in  their  love,  at  least,  find  heaven  ! 

And  is  there  too  a  hell,  a  place  where  they  who 
are  base  and  false  and  cruel  and  unjust  and  covetous 
and  unclean,  shall  at  last  suffer  the  penalties  of  sin 
which  they  have  defied  and  mocked  on  earth  }  Or 
is  this  too  a  dream  of  superstition,  a  heathen  imag- 
ination, a  priestly  lie }  Is  there  no  voyager  in 
those  unknown  lands  to  come  into  the  world  to 
bear  witness  to  the  truth  } 

Lo !  Here  is  Christ,  the  true  and  faithful  wit- 
ness.    As  in  the  conception  of  the  poet,  Dante 


The  Witness  for  the  Trtith.  109 

journeyed  with  Virgil  and  Beatrice  through  realms 
of  the  lost  and  the  blessed,  saw  with  his  own  eyes 
the  inscription  over  the  gates  of  hell,  heard  with 
his  own  ears  the  songs  of  martyrs  and  apostles, 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  divine  essence  "  environed 
with  the  angelic  hierarchies,"  and  thus  stood  spell 
bound  like  a  pilgrim  who  has  reached  his  shrine  ; 
till  at  length,  recovering,  the  traveler  returns  to  tell 
the  listening  earth  the  story  ; — even  so  does  Christ 
come  into  the  world  to  declare  the  truths  of  spirit- 
ual existence.  He  comes  to  speak  of  that  which 
He  does  know.  There  is  a  heaven,  for  it  is  His 
Father's  house.  There  is  a  hell,  for  He  has  seen 
the  rich  man  there  in  torment.  There  is  a  resur- 
rection, for  He  himself  has  welcomed  millions  of 
the  saints.  There  is  a  God  over  all,  for  He  himself 
is]God  manifest  in  the  flesh  that  men  may  see  Him, 
hear  Him,  handle  Him,  love  Him  if  they  will. 

Passing  on  from  this  fundamental  revelation,  we 
see  that  Christ  bears  witness  to  the  character  of 
God,  as  based  in  compassion,  humiliation  and  love. 
A  supreme  personal  being  exists.  But  who  or  what 
is  God  }  The  conceptions  of  mankind  have  been 
very  .remote  from  the  truth.  Their  gods  have  been 
the  product  of  their  own  imaginations  and  have  par- 
taken of  their  character.  Cruel  men  had  bloody 
gods,  as  Moloch  and  Thor.  Impure  men  had  im- 
pure gods  like  Jupiter  and  Vishnu.     Bigoted  and 


1 10  Sermons. 

selfish  men  had  gods  for  their  own  locaHties  who 
were  enemies  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  Even  the 
most  enlightened  conception  was  that  of  a  being  of 
great  power,  who  was  enthroned  in  celestial  mag' 
nificence,  and  who  ruled  the  worlds  with  the  iron 
rod  of  law.  Such  a  being  was  in  accordance  with 
men's  ideas  of  empire,  God  was  a  thunderbolt, 
A  heavenly  Father  interested  in  the  welfare  of  his 
children,  with  a  heart  that  could  be  wounded  by 
their  pangs,  willing  to  be  wounded  for  their  sake, 
abandoning  all  His  regal  glory  to  come  and  dwell 
with  them,  entering  the  world  by  a  stable  door  and 
departing  from  it  by  a  malefactor's  gibbet,  this  ideal 
of  divinity  was  a  profanation  and  an  absurdity, 
Christ  came  into  the  world  to  tell  them  that  never- 
theless this  ideal  was  the  real.  That  the  true 
greatness  of  God  was  in  His  humiliation  ;  that  His 
highest  happiness  was  in  co-passion  with  the 
wretched  ;  that  never  was  God  so  regal  as  when  in 
Christ  He  washed  the  feet  of  the  disciples  ;  never 
was  he  so  adorable  as  when  mingling  sorrowful  tears 
with  the  woes  of  the  bereaved  sisters  of  Bethany  ; 
never  was  He  so  truly  divine  as  when  He  turned 
His  thorn-crowned  head  to  forgive  the  dying  thief 
on  Calvary.  Men  might  reject  this  conception,  the 
Greeks  might  make  it  foolishness  and  the  Jews  a 
stumbling  block.  But  Christ  proclaimed  it  as  the 
truth,  and  summoned  all  men  to  fashion  their  lives 
according  to  that  divine  original. 


The  Witness  for  the  Tnith,  iii 

Christ  came  into  the  world,  still  further,  to  bear 
witness  to  the  truth  pertaining  to  humanity.  He 
came  to  instruct  men  in  those  reciprocal  duties  of 
brotherly  affection  and  equality  which  have  their 
root  in  the  divine  love  and  blossom  downwards. 

When  Christ  came  into  the  world,  the  ignorance 
of  man  as  man,  was  almost  rayless.  Such  a  thing 
as  the  rights  of  man,  was  indeed  unknown.  There 
were  rights  for  rulers,  rights  for  priests,  rights  for 
philosophers,  rights  for  favored  classes  or  individ- 
uals, but  there  were  no  rights  for  men.  The  same 
pride  and  selfishness  which  enthroned  God  in  dis- 
tant and  inaccessible  indifference  to  the  wants  of 
the  world,  made  the  higher  classes  indifferent  and 
inaccessible  also  to  those  beneath  them.  By  as 
much  as  they  raised  God  up,  by  so  much  they  drag- 
ged men  down.  What  is  generally  thought  of  as 
an  East  Indian  system  was  in  fact  the  system  of 
the  whole  ancient  world.  It  was  organized  on  the 
basis  of  caste,  on  the  absolute  domination  of  the 
highest,  and  the  inferiority  and  oppression  of  the 
lowest.  The  Jews  had  their  outermost  court  for 
the  Gentiles,  the  next  for  the  women,  and  worshiped 
by  themselves  in  the  third.  The  Greeks  regarded 
*all  outside  of  their  own  civilization  as  barbarians. 
The  Roman  looked  down  with  sovereign  contempt 
upon  them  all,  and  made  them  all  either  his  sub- 
jects or  his  slaves.     The  world  was  based  on  pride. 


112  Sermons. 

selfishness  and  hatred  when  Christ  revealed  the 
doctrine  of  humanity.  He  infused  into  men's 
hearts  the  new  law  of  love.  His  injunction  was 
**  Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself,"  and  when  the  ques- 
tion was  asked,  Who  is  my  neighbor }  as  if  it  might 
simply  mean  an  acquaintance  or  a  friend  on  a  level 
with  ourselves.  He  showed  by  a  "most  expressive 
parable  that  men  as  far  apart  in  feeling  and  condi- 
tion as  the  lordly  Jew  and  the  despised  Samaritan, 
in  the  sight  of  God  were  neighbors ;  that  in  fact 
the  term  neighbor  included  all  the  race,  that  all 
men  were  made  nigh-boring  by  the  blood  of  Christ, 
and  that  all  men  should  be  kind  to  each  other  be- 
cause they  are  kinned ;  that  thus  all  mankind 
should  have  man-kindness.  Christ  himself  sets  the 
great  example.  He  loves  all,  He  died  for  all,  and 
leaves  the  new  commandment,  "  Love  one  another, 
as  I  have  loved  you." 

Such  is  the  truth,  in  its  various  elements,  to  which 
Jesus  Christ  bore  witness.  But  when  we  seek  for 
the  unification  of  these  different  sides  of  truth  in 
one  clear  crystal ;  when  we  would  see,  not  truths, 
but  their  totality,  immortal,  immutable  and  divine, 
we  must  seek  it  in  the  nature  of  Him  who  said  / 
am  the  Truth.  As  the  gem  which  glistens  in  the 
coronet  of  a  monarch,  holds  in  its  translucent 
breast  all  the  prismatic  colors,  the  red,  the  green, 
the  orange  and  the  blue,  yet  these  separate  hues 


.  The  Witness  for  the  Truth.  113 

are  no  longer  visible,  but  braided  together  as  if  by 
the  craft  of  angels  into  one  pure,  etherial  strand  of 
light,  so  in  the  brightness  of  the  Redeemer's  glory 
all  truths  combine  their  principles  and  shine  in  the 
oneness  of  that  divinity  which  is  human,  and  that 
humanity  which  is  divine.  By  His  very  birth  and 
coming  into  the  world,  Christ  bore  witness  to  the 
truth  embosomed  in  his  own  existence. 

II. — But  let  us  enquire  more  particularly  into 
the  nature  of  his  witness. 

As  a  teacher,  Christ  uttered  His  testimony  of 
man  and  God,  of  perdition  and  salvation.  In  the 
temple  at  Jerusalem,  in  the  houses  of  his  followers, 
by  the  bedside  of  the  sick,  on  the  sea  shore  and  on 
the  mountain,  Christ  ever  confessed  His  own  truth, 
and  urged  it  upon  the  convictions  of  others  in  the 
spirit  of  love.  But  Christ  not  only  spoke  the  truth. 
He  lived  it.  According  to  the  fine  distinction  of 
the  apostle,  He  did  not  merely  give  oral  utterance 
to  truth,  but  vital  expression.  He  truthed  it  in 
love.  His  life  revealed  His  devotion  to  the  truth 
He  was  entrusted  with  a  precious  treasure,  which 
he  was  to  defend  from  enemies  and  impart  to  those 
who  would  receive  it.  It  was  God's  truth.  It  was 
truth  pertaining  to  welfare  here  and  salvation  here- 
after. It  was  truth  which  men  must  have  or  die. 
With  this  appreciation  of  the  inestimable  value  and 
prime  necessity  of  truth,  was  associated  the  con- 


114  Sermons, 

sciousness  of  his  own  mission  as  a  witness  for  it. 
He  might  proclaim  it  and  talk  it.     He  might  work 
mighty  miracles  to  give  evidence  of  its  divine  origin 
But  He  could  do  more  than  this.     He  could  suffer 
for  it.    He  could  live  homeless  and  poor,  could  be  a 
man  of  sorrows,  could  be  despised  of  all  and  hated 
of  all,  could  drink  the  full  goblet  of  crucifixion  to 
the  bottom  in  attestation  and  defense  of  what  God 
had  given  to  His  keeping.     Thus  Christ  did.     His 
whole  life  was  as  steady  to  the  truth  as  the  steps  of 
the  pilgrim  to  the  shrine,  or  the  course  of  the  sailor 
to  his  star.     He  uttered  mighty  words,  but  every 
word  was  mightier  because  it  was  armed  with  all 
the  force  of  His  unselfish  life.     The  scoffing  words 
of  the  bystanders  at  the  cross  were  true ;  He  saved 
others,  himself  He  could  not  save.     He  was  in  the 
highest  sense  of  the  word  a  witness,  a  martyr  to 
the  truth.     Witness  means   martyrdom.     And  as 
Jesus  lived  for  the  truth,  so  it  was  just  as  normal, 
just  as  needful,  that  He  should  die  for  it,  and  con- 
summate the  witness  as  the  forerunner  of  that  im- 
mortal host  who,  in  after  ages,  by  fire  and  sword  and 
hungry  beasts,  and  by  every  form  of  persecution, 
should  attest  their  allegiance  to  the  King  of  Truth, 
and  challenge  death  and  torment  to  vanquish  their 
devotion. 

But    even  yet  we   do    not    reach    the    central 
thought.     Christ  proclaimed  the  truth,  lived  for  it^ 


The  Witness  for  the  Truth,  1 1 5 

and  died  for  it  But  here  is  the  secret  of  His  power. 
He  recognized  this  witness  to  the  truth  as  the  end 
of  His  existence.  He  does  not  merely  say  to  Pon- 
tius Pilate,  I  love  the  truth  ;  I  am  willing  to  suffer 
in  its  defense,  to  die  if  need  be  to  attest  man's  need 
of  it.  But  He  says  with  far  deeper  meaning,  "  To 
this  end  was  I  boniy  and  for  this  cause  came  I  into 
the  world,  that  I  might  bear  witness  unto  the  truth. 
If  I  had  not  come  from  heaven  to  live  for  the  truth, 
to  endure  sacrifices  for  it  and  to  offer  up  my  life  in 
its  defense,  I  never  should  have  left  heaven  at  all. 
Devotion  to  the  truth  is  the  end  and  object  of  my 
being.  I  came  to  prove  the  reality  of  God,  the  depth 
and  boundlessness  of  His  paternal  affection,  the 
veneration  that  is  due  to  humanity,  the  possibility 
of  purity  to  the  sinful  and  of  salvation  to  the  lost. 
To  deny  my  mission  or  to  neglect  it,  were  to  slay 
my  own  existence." 

Such  is  the  truth  committed  unto  Christ  and 
such  is  Christ's  devotion  to  it.  You  perceive  the 
idea.  It  is  as  if  a  soldier  were  entrusted  with  the 
honor  and  life  of  his  country.  His  words  and 
prayers  are  patriotic.  But  this  is  not  all.  Where- 
ever  the  enemy  is  in  sight,  there  the  young  hero  is 
flashing  his  weapon  and  struggling  in  the  storm 
of  contest.  He  is  hungry.  What  of  that  ?  He  is 
thirsty.  What  of  that  ?  He  must  toil  by  day  and 
watch  through  weary  nights.     What  of  that  ?     He 


ii6  Sermons. 

must  be  excluded  from  the  love  of  the  home 
circle.  What  of  that  ?  He  must  press  the  bloody 
stretcher  while  his  comrades  are  charging  the  flying 
foe.  What  of  that }  He  did  not  enlist  for  comfort 
or  for  safety.  He  did  not  expect  that  the  battle- 
field would  remind  him  much  of  home.  But  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  that  the  soldier  of  the  Republic, 
the  guardian  hero  of  its  honor  and  salvation,  must 
be  ready  to  endure  privation,  to  face  danger,  to 
smile  at  death,  to  count  all  things  but  loss  for  the 
sake  of  his  country.  To  this  end  he  registered  his 
name  on  the  roll  of  the  defenders  ;  for  this  he  put 
on  the  uniform.  For  this  cause  he  enlisted  in  the 
army,  and  should  he  by  cowardice  or  desertion  or 
neglect  of  duty  fail  to  put  forth  every  faculty  of 
mind  and  body  for  the  life  of  the  nation  and  the 
destruction  of  its  enemies,  it  would  prove  not 
simply  that  he  was  unworthy  of  his  exalted  trust, 
but  that  he  had  defeated  the  very  object  for  which 
he  was  made  a  soldier.  As  a  soldier,  to  this  end 
was  he  born  and  for  this  cause  came  he  unto  the 
world,  that  he  might,  in  hospital  groanings  or  bat- 
tle thunders,  bear  witness  to  the  truth. 

This  was  the  ideal  which  was  before  the  mind  of 
Christ,  and  this  is  the  mission  to  which  He  sum- 
mons His  followers,  when  He  say s,  *' they  that  are  of 
the  truth  hear  my  voice." 

ni. — That  truth  which  in  its  unity  is  the  same, 


The  Witness  for  the  Truth,  117 

everywhere  and  forever,  will  nevertheless  vary  in 
its  aspect  as  it  turns  toward  God  or  man.  Truth 
is  one,  like  the  ocean  ;  yet  that  ocean  is  composed 
of  multitudinous  waves.  Truth  is  immutable,  like 
God  ;  yet  God  varies  in  His  manifestation  according 
to  the  changes  in  human  character.  In  different 
ages  special  portions  of  truth  will  be  most  appreciated 
and  defended.  In  the  time  of  the  Israelitish  proph- 
ets, that  truth  will  be  the  Unity  of  God.  In  the 
time  of  the  apostles,  the  inclusion  of  the  Gentiles 
within  the  bounds  of  God's  favor.  In  the  time  of 
Luther,  justification  by  faith.  In  the  days  of  the 
Puritans,  freedom  to  worship  God  without  restraint 
from  earthly  rulers.  In  the  days  of  the  Revolution, 
the  right  of  men  to  govern  themselves  in  secular 
affairs.  In  our  own  day,  the  declaration  of  our 
fathers  in  its  full  significance  and  intent,  viz. :  that 
all  men  are  created  free  and  equal  and  have  the  in- 
alienable right  of  liberty.  But  now,  as  in  the  be- 
ginning, the  totality  of  truth  will  be  found  in  the 
being  of  Jesus,  and  while  we  rightfully  defend  that 
attribute  which  is  most  in  jeopardy,  we  are  ever 
summoned  to  maintain  the  whole  in  its  indivisible 
integrity.  To  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  whether  it 
relate  to  God  or  to  humanity,  we  are  bound  to  bear 
our  witness.  We  may  not  simply  receive  the 
truth  and  absorb  it,  for  this  is  not  to  be  a  witness. 
There  must  in  some  way  be  a  declaration  of  it  and 


ii8  Sermons. 

for  it.  In  some  sense  or  other,  for  some  truth  or 
other,  every  man  is  born  to  be  a  martyr. 

The  repetition  of  this  word  martyr  suggests  at 
once  various  reasons  why  men  will  not  discharge 
their  obligation  in  the  witness  for  the  truth.  Men 
do  not  like  to  be  martyrs  even  in  those  trifling 
forms  of  martyrdom  which  are  found  in  modern 
society.  Men  shrink  now  from  contemptuous  opin- 
ion, from  nicknames,  from  unfashionableness,  from 
controversy,  from  charge  of  one-idea  and  radical- 
ism, with  more  trepidation  and  dismay  than  did  the 
first  followers  of  truth  when  the  fires  were  kindling 
which  were  to  burn  their  bodies,  and  the  lions  were 
roaring  which  were  to  feast  upon  their  blood. 

Truth  is  ever  robed  in  homespun.  It  is  apt  to 
be  unpopular  so  long  as  it  needs  to  be  defended. 
When  it  is  inaugurated  as  King,  the  multitude 
hasten  with  their  tribute  of  attachment  and  rever- 
ence, and  intimate  complacently  that  to  them  the 
truth  is  indebted  for  its  coronation.  But  there  is  a 
long,  dark  time  in  which  truth  is  crownless  and 
persecuted.  It  is  with  the  truth  as  with  Him  who 
made  it  incarnate.  Jesus  says,  "  I  am  the  truth." 
And  how  did  Jesus  come  into  the  world  }  In  such 
fashion  that  men  hid  as  it  were  their  faces  from 
Him,  so  that  He  was  despised  and  rejected  of  men. 
He  was  hated  of  all,  persecuted  by  the  wealth  and 
rank  and  religion  of  His  time,  and  at  last  put  to 


The  Witness  for  the  Tnitk  119 

death.  It  was  an  easy  thing  for  Peter  to  say  that 
Jesus  was  the  Messiah,  when  he  was  at  ease,  with 

friends,  upon  the  seashore.  It  was  not  so  easy  in 
the  house  of  the  high  priest  at  midnight  and  among 
foes.  It  was  a  small  thing  to  bear  witness  when 
the  children  cried  hosanna,  and  the  multitude 
strewed  their  garments  for  Jesus  to  ride  over ;  but 
it  was  something  that  tested  the  sincerity  of  the 
soul,  to  confess  Him  as  Saviour,  when  He  was  hang- 
ing in  crucifixion  and  the  mob  were  feasting  on 
His  sufferings.  But  it  was  just  as  needful  to  bear 
witness  upon  Calvary  as  upon  Olivet.  To  defend 
when  no  defense  is  needed,  to  applaud  when  all 
men  are  joining  in  the  chorus,  and  then  to  desert 
the  cause  just  when  it  needs  us  most,  and  deny  the 
Saviour  just  when  our  love  might  be  an  angel's 
strength  to  Him,  this  is  the  way  of  mankind. 

Is  it  not  so  now  "i  Take  the  most  unpopular 
truth  you  can  think  of,  one  that  is  a  root  out  of  dry 
ground,  one  which  has  been  stigmatized,  spit  upon, 
buffeted,  mocked  and  crowned  with  thorns  and 
almost  crucified)  the  truth  that  the  color  which 
God  puts  upon  a  man's  skin  does  not  nullify  his 
right  to  manhood  and  brotherhood  ;  a  truth  which 
is  one  of  the  very  rudiments  of  the  teaching  of 
Christ ;  and  what  even  to-day  is  the  attitude  of 
men  toward  it  1  I  will  not  say,  what  is  the  attitude 
of  rebels,  of  sinners  who  regard  neither  the  claims 


120  Sermons, 

of  God  nor  man,  but  I  ask,  what  is  your  own  re- 
sponse, with  all  your  illumination,  your  progressive- 
ness,  your  world-embracing  sympathy?  Here  is  a 
race  of  weak  and  lowly  men  and  women  who,  it  is 
said,  are  far  our  inferiors.  Let  it  be  granted  that 
they  have  little  intellect,  that  they  are  feeble  in 
capacity,  that  their  moral  sense  is  dulled  by  depri- 
vation, for  many  generations,  of  all  that  can  exalt 
and  enlarge  the  soul.  Granted  that  they  are  out- 
raged and  oppressed  because  they  are  so  lowly  and 
so  weak.  There  was  a  time,  in  what  is  called  the 
dark  ages,  when  the  fact  that  men  were  weak  and 
women  helpless,  beneath  the  power  of  the  infidel 
and  the  oppressor,  drew  forth  the  Christian  knight 
from  his  castle  and  summoned  his  flaming  sword 
from  its  scabbard,  never  to  be  sheathed  till  the  cap* 
tive  should  be  delivered  and  the  oppressor  slain, 
These  were  the  days  of  chivalry.  But  now  we 
have  been  wont  to  apply  the  term  to  rich  men  who 
robbed  the  hireling  of  his  wages  and  ground  the 
face  of  the  poor.  They,  forsooth,  have  been  the 
chivalry  of  a  Christian  nation,  who  violated  inno- 
cence, who  tortured  those  that  had  no  helper,  and 
supplied  their  luxury  and  indolence  by  bereaving 
captive  mothers  of  their  children  and  selling  them 
for  gold.  This  is  the  awful  crime  that  has  black- 
ened all  the  pages  of  our  national  history.  If  there 
is  any  truth  which  to-day  ought  to  find  a  universal 


The  Witness  for  the  Truth,  12I 

and  intense  expression,  it  is  the  heaven-defying 
wickedness  of  the  spirit  of  caste,  which  can  make 
injustice  to  the  colored  race  for  an  instant  toler- 
able. This  must  be  the  principle — equal  manhood 
in  Adam  and  equal  brotherhood  in  Christ — to  which, 
at  this  hour,  we  are  in  duty  bound  to  give  our  wit- 
ness as  hearers  of  the  voice  of  Truth  ?  Yet  think 
of  the  awful  consequences  !  The  avowal  of  such  a 
truth  might  awaken  opposition  on  the  part  of  our 
acquaintance  or  our  connexions.  It  might  make 
us  less  welcome  in  the  most  respected  circles.  It 
might  even  curtail  the  profits  of  our  business  or 
our  profession.  It  might  even  draw  down  upon 
our  devoted  heads  the  excruciating  penalty  of  being 
ostracized  for  radicalism. 

Therefore  we  must  be  worldly-wise.  We  must 
repress  our  sentiments.  We  must  get  along  with 
conservative  society.  We  must  pray  good  Lord, 
good  devil.  In  other  words,  we  must  refrain  from 
bearing  witness  for  the  truth. 

Oh,  how  different  from  the  spirit  of  the  early 
time,  when  the  apostle  Paul,  stoned  and  beaten  and 
driven  into  strange  cities,  cried  out,  "1  am  not 
ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ.  Woe  is  me  if  I 
preach  not  the  gospel." 

How  different  from  the  holy  boldness  of  Polycarp 
and  Luther  and  Ridley,  and  of  those  who  crossed 
the  ocean  for  their  Saviour's  sake  !     Yes,  how  dif- 

6 


122  Sermons. 

ferent  from  those  heroic  men  of  the  generation 
which  is  now  passing,  men,  it  may  be,  of  erroneous 
religious  opinion,  of  false  social  theories,  men  who 
sometimes  may  have  used  denunciation  where  less 
fiery  indignation  would  better  have  accomplished 
the  purpose  ;  yet  men  with  great  souls  resolutely 
fixed  upon  great  destinies,  who  believed  in  Jesus 
and  in  humanity,  who  led  the  forlorn  hope  of  the 
battle  of  emancipation,  who  were  outlawed  by  the 
church,  pelted  by  the  mob,  imprisoned  by  the  law, 
scorned  of  all  men  and  hated  of  all  men,  yet  with 
sublime  faith  and  courage  toiling  on,  speaking  with 
tongues  of  men  and  angels,  enduring  all  poverty 
and  affliction,  that,  even  over  their  trampled  bodies 
and  their  dishonored  graves,  the  poor  despised 
negro  might  reach  the  liberty  with  which  the  Lord 
Jesus  makes  all  men  free. 

These  were  the  martyrs  of  that  cause  which  to- 
day is  almost  triumphant,  which  has  burst  the  cere- 
ments and  removed  the  napkin  and  is  ready  to 
emerge  from  the  sepulcher.  These  men  stood  be- 
fore the  bar  of  public  opinion  and  before  the  tri- 
bunals of  the  Pilates  who  were  to  condemn  them, 
saying  calmly,  "  To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for 
this  cause  came  I  into  the  world,  that  I  might  bear 
witness  unto  the  truth." 

The  end  for  which  these  men  lived  was  the  end 
for  which  they  were  born.    The  end   for  which 


The  Witness  for  the  Truth.  123 

Jesus  lived  was  the  end  for  which  He  was  born. 
How  is  it  with  ourselves  ?  What  is  the  object  for 
which  God  created  us  ?  To  be  comfortable  ?  To 
be  famous  ?  To  be  rich  ?  To  be  intelligent  ?  To 
be  happy  ?  To  be  popular  ?  No  !  These  are  all 
subordinate.  They  are  all  as  nothing  in  compari- 
son with  the  intent  of  God.  This  is  the  end  of 
your  existence,  that,  like  the  dying  witness  whose 
farewell  utterance  has  become  a  watchword  of  the 
church,  you  might  "stand  up  for  Jesus."  To  this  end 
you  were  born,  and  for  this  cause  you  came  into  the 
world,  that  you  might  bear  witness  unto  the  truth. 
Think  you  that  God  lavished  so  much  greatness 
upon  you  that  you  might  lead  a  petty,  mean  and 
selfish  life  t  God  did  not  create  India  rubber 
merely  to  rub  out  pencil  marks.  Neither  did  He 
forge  the  lightnings  to  shock  the  knuckles  of  phi- 
losophers. He  meant  the  one  to  enter  into  all  the 
recesses  of  men's  comfort  and  supply  the  needs  of 
peace  and  war.  And  He  intended  the  other  to  be 
the  spinal  cord  of  the  nations,  binding  the  world  in 
amity.  And  God  made  you  with  upward  gaze  in- 
tent on  heaven,  with  your  faculties  of  intelligence 
and  knowledge,  your  soul  akin  to  that  of  angels 
and  endowed  with  immortality,  that  you  might 
accomplish  something  worthy  of  your  origin  and 
destiny.  Christ  tells  you  what  this  is.  You  are 
foreordained  to  be  the  champion  of  the  truth. 


124  Sermons. 

Why  were  you  not  born  in  some  inconspicuous 
era,  when  all  things  slid  in  their  grooves  of  tradition, 
and  no  celestial  messenger  of  truth  was  waking 
the  world  with  his  advent  ?  Why  did  God  give 
you  existence  in  this  latter  day,  when  the  nations 
are  contending ;  when  the  welfare  of  the  race,  the 
rights  of  humanity  and  the  supremacy  of  Christ 
were  to  be  decided  by  the  stern-faced  armies  which 
were  marching  along  our  streets,  and  by  the 
fidelity  of  the  people  to  justice  and  righteousness, 
even  at  the  expense  of  fortune,  tears  and  blood  ? 
Was  it  to  compromise  with  iniquity  ?  To  suppress 
your  convictions  ?  To  shirk  from  sacrifices  ?  To  act 
as  though  it  were  a  dishonor,  which  needed  some 
expurgation,  if  you  were  on  the  side  of  the  element- 
ary principles  of  the  Christian  religion  ?  God 
created  you  to  stand  in  this  very  gap.  In  this 
great  spiritual  conflict,  God  is  calling  for  men. 
You  have  no  right  to  find  a  substitute.  Your  work, 
your  prayer,  your  voice,  your  vote,  must  be  on  the 
side  of  freedom  and  righteousness  and  equal 
justice,  or  else  you  are  a  moral  suicide.  You 
defeat  the  very  object  for  which  your  Creator 
breathed  into  your  nostrils  the  breath  of  life. 

I  say  this  to  all  men,  saints  and  sinners.  But  if 
you  have  the  love  of  God  in  your  heart,  if  you  are 
born  again  with  the  Second  birth,  then  the  destiny 
which  was  fixed  upon  you  by  the  very  fact  of  your 


The  Witness  for  the  Truth.  125 

existence,  is  made  inevitable  by  your  regeneration. 
Why  were  you  created  anew  by  the  Spirit  of  God, 
unless  to  bear  witness  to  the  truth  of  God  ?  If 
every  man  is  to  hear  the  words  of  Jesus  at  the  bar 
of  Pontius  Pilate,  then  are  you,  beyond  all  others, 
bound  to  witness  a  good  confession.  If,  as  a  man, 
you  have  whispered  truth,  then,  as  a  Christian, 
whisper  no  longer.  Speak  now,  as  the  tempest 
does,  louder  and  stronger.  If,  as  a  man,  you  have 
been  a  witness  against  unrighteousness,  then 
as  a  Christian,  be  a  martyr.  To  this  end  Christ 
died  for  you,  and  for  this  cause  the  Holy  Ghost 
moved  with  gracious  influence  on  your  heart,  that 
you  might  cling  to  this  truth  of  God  though  all 
men  deny  it  and  desert  it. 

This  is  the  mission  of  the  Christian.  This  is 
the  mission  of  the  Christian  religion.  For  this  in- 
tent this  church  through  God  was  organized.  For 
this  its  sacramental  feasts  are  solemnized.  For 
this  the  ministry  was  born. .  For  this  your  pastor 
was  set  apart  with  solemn  ordination.  For  this 
your  brow  received  the  baptismal  symbol  and  your 
confession  was  made  before  many  earthly  and  many 
heavenly  witnesses.  And  now,  as  if  Christ  him- 
self stood  scourged  and  crowned  with  thorns  be- 
side me,  I  beseech  you  to  be  faithful  to  that  truth 
for  which  you  live  and  move  and  have  your  being. 

Whatever  else  God  may  have  given  you,  He  has 


1 26  Sermons. 

at  least  endowed  you  with  life.  This  life  is  truth's 
and  God's.  Fidelity  to  truth  and  God  is  the  com- 
prehensive talent  for  which  we  shall  be  accountable 
hereafter.  And  though,  in  our  lowly  sphere,  we 
may  be  able  to  do  no  more  than  to  stand  with 
Mary  speechless  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  on  which 
our  Lord  is  suffering,  yet  that  presence  is  itself  a 
witness.  The  eye  of  the  dying  Christ  shall  see 
you.  The  glory  of  the  risen  Christ  shall  crown 
you,  in  His  kingdom. 

Therefore  I  repeat  to  you,  to  be  graven  on  your 
memories  and  on  your  hearts  with  everlasting  re- 
membrance, what  we  perceive  to  be  the  chief  end 
of  man.  Think  of  it.  Pray  over  it.  Live  with 
it  in  view.  To  this  end  you  were  born,  and  for 
this  cause  you  came  into  the  vrorld,  that  you  might 
bear  witness  unto  the  truth. 


THE   CHRISTIAN 
DOCTRINE   OF  LOYALTY. 


THE  CHRISTIAN   DOCTRINE  OF 
LOYALTY. 


"  And  Saul  also  went  home  to  Gibeah  ;  and  there  went  with  him 
a  band  of  men,  whose  hearts  God  had  touched.  But  the  children 
of  Belial  said,  How  shall  this  man  save  us  ?  And  they  despised 
him,  and  brought  him  no  presents.     But  he  held  his  peace," 

I  Sam.  X.  26,  27. 

Loyalty,  in  its  primary  signification,  denotes  at- 
tachment to  law.  Law  is  its  basis  in  character,  as 
the  term  is  the  root  in  the  structure  of  the  word. 
Loyalty  in  its  structure  is  simply  law-alty.  It  is 
devotion  to  what  is  laid  down  as  the  rule  for  action 
in  a  civil  community. 

But  as  law  becomes  complex,  and  is  organized 
into  institutions  and  systems  and  constitutions  of 
government,  loyalty  partakes  of  that  wider  meaning, 
and  grows  with  the  growth  of  its  root — principle. 
Thus  it  comes  to  signify  fidelity  to  the  existing 
government,  of  whatever  form  that  government 
may  be. 

And  finally,  as  there  can  be  no  government  with- 
out some  visible,  recognized  head  as  executive  or 
administrator,  loyalty  at  length  includes  devotion  to 
such  executive  magistrate,  whether  he  be  Czar  or 
Caesar,  King  or  President. 


132  Sermons.    • 

One  of  the  earliest  examples  of  this  loyalty,  and 
of  its  opposite,  is  exhibited  to  us  in  the  brief  but  sig- 
nificant narrative  of  the  text.  In  conformity  with 
the  desire  of  the  people  of  Israel,  the  form  of  gov- 
ernment had  been  changed  from  a  judgeship  to  a 
monarchy.  God  himself  had  selected  the  candidate 
for  the  throne,  and  appointed  the  method  of  his  elec- 
tion. By  the  ancient  procedure  in  solemn  cases, 
the  king  was  elected  by  lot.  The  lot  fell  upon  Saul. 
And  the  prophet  Samuel  said  to  all  the  people, 
See  ye  him  whom  the  Lord  has  chosen  ;  and  all  the 
people  shouted  and  said,  God  save  the  king. 
But  when  the  first  tumult  of  enthusiasm  had  died 
away,  it  was  evident  that  there  were,  in  the  nation, 
two  opposite  parties  ;  one  of  them  favoring  and 
supporting  the  new  monarch,  and  the  other  thwart- 
ing him  and  despising  him.  One  band  went  home 
with  Saul  to  Gibeah  and  paid  him  gladly  the  trib- 
ute of  obedience.  These  were  men  whose  hearts 
God  had  touched,  or  in  other  words,  men  of  moral 
excellence  and  piety.  The  other  set  refused  to  ren- 
der the  immemorial  token  of  allegiance  to  a  new 
ruler,  the  present  of  raiment  or  of  cattle  or  of  silver. 
They  even  made  light  of  the  candidate  whom  God 
had  chosen,  comparing  him  unfavorably  with  others 
on  whom  their  hopes  had  been  fixed.  They  de- 
spised Saul,  and  said  with  a  sneer,  ''  How  shall  this 
man  save  us  r    This  disloyal  faction  are  called  in 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty,         133 

the  text  "  children  of  Belial,"  which  means,  in  the 
Hebrew,  reckless,  lawless,  good-for-nothing  fellows. 
The  principle  here  involved  is  susceptible  of  uni- 
versal application.  Loyalty  always  comes  from 
God,  and  disloyalty  from  Belial.  .  In  other  words, 
loyalty  is  not  an  empty  theory,  it  is  not  a  matter  of 
personal  option,  or  the  creature  of  human  enact- 
ment. Men  are  under  the  same  obligation  to  be 
loyal  that  they  are  to  be  honest,  truthful,  or  chaste. 

It  is  an  essential  element  of  morality.  Loyalty 
is  virtue,  and  disloyalty  is  sin.  Such  in  its  general 
principle  is  the  teaching  of  the  text. 

I  shall  therefore  take  the  opportunity  of  this 
Thanksgiving  day,  when  the  loyal  people  of  the 
land  have  assembled,  not  only,  in  accordance  with 
custom,  to  celebrate  the  ordinary  mercies  of  the 
year,  but  also,  at  the  invitation  of  the  Chief  Magis- 
trate of  the  nation,  to  thank  God  for  the  preservation 
of  the  nation's  existence, — to  analyze  the  foundation 
principles  upon  which  loyalty  rests.  It  will  be  my  aim 
to  enforce  the  propositions  already  stated,  and  to  show 
in  brief,  that  all  men  are  under  a  divine  obligation 
to  be  loyal  to  the  government  under  which  they  live. 

Of  this  sacred  obligation,  the  main  proof  will  be 
found  in  the  divine  origin  of  government. 

If  government  is  a  human  arrangement  merely, 
then  the  claim  on  men's  loyalty  can  go  no  deeper. 
Disloyalty  may  be  a  formal  trespass,  without  in- 


1 34  Sermons. 

volving  any  moral  obliquity.  But,  if  government  is 
the  ordination  of  God,  then  disloyalty  to  the  govern- 
ment becomes  disobedience  to  God,  and  loyalty 
becomes  a  Christian  duty,  as  binding  as  the  obliga- 
tion of  obedience  to  the  ten  commandments. 

With  reference  to  the  origin  of  human  government, 
there  are  two  great  opposing  theories.  One  is  the 
infidel  theory  of  a  social  contract ;  the  other  the 
scriptural  theory  of  a  divine  ordination. 

I.— The  doctrine  of  a  social  contract  as  consti- 
tuting the  basis  of  civil  authority,  found  its  chief  sup- 
port, if  not  its  origin,  in  the  imagination  of  the  French 
philosopher  Rousseau  and  his  political  school. 

According  to  this  theory,  ''The  existence  of  so- 
ciety is  optional  with  men  and  is  due  to  their 
voluntary  consent.  Indi-viduals  are  bound  by  the 
social  bond,  only  because,  and  so  far  as,  they  have 
agreed  to  be  bound.  This  false  dogma  of  a  social 
contract  is  laid  at  the  foundation  of  the  edifice. 
It  is  farther  held  that  the  individual  in  entering 
society  surrenders  all  his  rights  to  the  community, 
and  through  this  common  act  of  all,  there  instantly 
arises  the  body  politic.  To  the  community  thus 
formed  belongs  sovereignty.  The  general  will  is 
now  the  supreme  law."*  This  theory  was  ardently 
adopted  by  Robespierre  and  his  party  in  the  con- 
vulsions of  the  French  Revolution  and  Reign  of 


*  Prof.  G.  P.  Fisher,  in  "New  Englander,"  vol.  xxiii.  p.  12. 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty.         135 

Terror,  because  it  seemed  to  put  all  men  on  the 
same  political  level,  and  created  civil  society  with- 
out the  intervention  of  the  Supreme  Being. 

A  few  considerations  will  be  sufficient  to  show 
the  fallacy  of  this  plausible  but  baseless  doctrine  of 
a  social  contract. 

(i)  In  the  first  place,  upon  this  theory  there 
could  be  no  obligation  to  obedience,  except  on  those 
who  had  a  share  in  making  the  government.  If  the 
sole  basis  of  authority  is  the  voluntary  agreement 
of  each  individual  in  the  community,  then,  where 
there  is  no  such  agreement,  there  can  be  no  obliga- 
tion. This  is  a  kind  of  social  conglomerate,  in 
which  some  of  the  citizens  are  bound  to  obey  and 
some  of  them  are  not.  But  such  a  state  of  things 
is  not  government.     It  is  anarchy. 

This  fatal  difficulty  has  driven  the  admirers  of 
the  contract  school  to  desperate  straits.  It  is 
objected  that  this  theory  would  demand  the  consent 
of  every  succeeding  generation  to  the  agreement 
made  by  their  predecessors.  To  this  one  writer 
replies  that  society  has  a  corporate  existence  ;  that 
we  live  and  act  therefore  in  our  ancestors  ;  that 
just  as  we  all  sinned  in  Adam,  so  we  all  made  a 
contract  in  the  persons  of  the  first  founders  of  the 
state,  and  consequently  are  holden  to  the  contract. 

In  reply  to  this  ingenious  assertion,  one  may 
well  ask  whether,  if  we  contracted  in  our  forefathers. 


1 36  Sermons. 

we  did  not  also  obey  in  them,  and  so  are  released 
from  any  farther  responsibility  ?  Or,  how  can  we 
be  sure  that  our  individual  ancestors  were  parties 
to  the  contract  of  obedience?  Might  not  they, 
since  it  was  a  matter  of  personal  preference  and 
option,  have  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
the  arrangement,  and  insisted  on  their  own  in- 
dividual liberty?  Then  if  the  ancestors  did  not 
consent  to  the  original  contract,  of  course  their 
posterity  would  be  free  from  obligation ;  and  we 
have,  in  consequence,  the  remarkable  example  of 
a  state,  in  which  some  are  bound  to  be  loyal  and 
obedient  citizens,  and  others  among  them,  but  not 
of  them,  have  a  veto-power  on  all  legislation  so  far 
as  concerns  themselves ;  who  having,  as  we  may 
suppose,  never  agreed  to  be  bound  by  the  laws,  can 
rob  and  kill,  not  only  with  impunity,  but  also  with- 
out blame. 

Another  writer,  no  less  a  philosopher  than 
Thomas  Jefferson,  who  was,  as  we  know,  strongly 
imbued  with  French  theories  of  government,  main- 
tained that  the  binding  force  of  civil  authority  must 
depend  upon  the  consent  of  each  succeeding  gen- 
eration :  and  he  would  provide  for  this  consent  by  a 
.periodical  return  to  a  state  of  nature,  in  which  all  laws 
and  constitutions  are  annihilated  and  are  to  be  re- 
created by  another  social  compact.  Lest  you  may 
think  this  statement  an  exaggeration,  I  will  quote, 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty.         137 

from  a  letter  to  Madison,  a  paragraph  containing 
the  details  of  this  marvelous  theory.  "  The  earth," 
says  Jefferson,  "belongs  always  to  the  living  gen- 
eration. They  may  manage  it,  then,  and  what  pro- 
ceeds from  it,  as  they  please  during  their  usufruct. 
They  are  masters  too,  of  their  own  persons,  and 
consequently  may  govern  them  as  they  please. 
But  persons  and  property  make  the  sum  of  the 
objects  of  government.  The  constitution  and  the 
laws  are  extinguished  then,  in  their  natural  course, 
with  those  who  gave  them  being.  This  will  pre- 
serve that  being  till  it  ceases  to  be  itself,  and  no 
longer.  Every  constitution  then  and  every  law 
naturally  expires  at  the  end  of  every  thirty -four 
years.  If  it  be  enforced  longer,  it  is  an  act  of 
force  and  not  of  right." 

Now  since  this  monstrous  proposal  of  a  tri-centen- 
nial  revolution,  in  which  all  the  laws  and  institutions 
of  the  past  should  perish,  would  be  the  destruction  of 
all  settled  and  progressive  government;  and  since  it  is 
the  natural  deduction  from  the  social  contract  theory, 
we  might  well  discard  that  theory  with  abhorrence. 
But  it  is  instructive  to  notice  that  Jefferson's  plan 
fails  in  the  very  point  for  which  he  invents  it.  His 
design  is  to  secure  the  consent  of  every  subject  to 
the  laws  by  which  he  is  governed.  But  how  can 
this  be  secured  by  a  mass  meeting  three  times  a 
century }    Generations  are  made  up  of  individuals, 


138  Sermons. 

and  these  individuals  are  daily  and  continually 
coming  to  birth  and  passing  away  from  existence. 
What  then  becomes  of  all  those  who  come  to  be  of 
age  and  die  in  the  course  of  thirty-four  years  ? 
They  have  never  given  their  ratification  to  the  ex- 
istent laws,  because  they  can,  by  the  theory,  have 
had  no  opportunity.  The  only  privilege  which  is 
left  to  them,  therefore,  is  to  start  a  private  revolu- 
tion of  their  own  after  the  manner  of  Jefferson 
Davis  ;  and  according  to  the  theory,  they  are  justi- 
fied in  thus  proceeding,  because  they  had  no  share 
in  creating  the  government.  And  futhermore,  since 
the  sober  sense  of  the  American  people  has  never 
consented  to  jeopardize  the  authority  of  our  free 
institutions,  by  making  their  preservation  or  des- 
truction optional  every  thirty^four  years  since  the 
adoption  of  the  constitution,  it  follows,  of  course, 
that  we  are  no  longer  living  under  a  free  govern- 
ment. It  holds  its  power  by  force  and  not  by 
right.  The  Southern  oracles  then  are  correct. 
We  of  the  North  are  slaves,  and  they  of  the  South 
are  patriots,  contending  for  the  inalienable  right  of 
freemen.  We  may  safely  conclude  that  a  theory 
which  results  in  such  monstrous  conclusions,  is 
radically  unsound. 

(2)  But  we  will  test  the  doctrine  further.  Its 
fundamental  proposition  is,  that  previous  to  the  ex- 
istence of  civil  government,  men  living  in  a  state  of 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty.        139 

nature,  as  it  is  termed,  met  together  and  made  a 
contract,  by  virtue  of  which  the  state  was  then  and 
there  created ;  but  is  this  a  historic  fact  or  the  play 
of  a  sprightly  imagination  ?  In  the  earliest  period 
of  human  society,  when  there  were  giants  on  the 
earth,  mighty  men  of  dd,  men  of  renown,  and  the 
inhabitants  were  wandering  barbarians,  did  they 
all  come  together  and  agree  with  all  the  precision 
of  philosophers,  to  surrender  their  individual 
rights  to  the  commonwealth  ?  Was  the  beginning 
of  kingdoms  in  Babel  and  Assyria  and  Egypt  thus 
the  offering  of  the  popular  will  ?  And  was  that 
will  in  favor  of  the  absolute  despotisms  by  which 
the  people  were  obliterated  from  the  notice  of  the 
state  ?  Was  such  the  origin  of  the  French  nation, 
and  of  the  British  Constitution  ?  To  all  these  in- 
quiries the  history  of  mankind  answers  in  the  nega- 
tive. The  fact  is  that,  except  in  our  own  history, 
nothing  at  all  resembling  this  social  compact  of  the 
French  theorists  has  been  known  since  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world. 

Even  in  American  history,  the  apparent  parallels 
vanish  upon  closer  examination.  It  is  true  that 
the  Massachusetts  colonists  did,  before  landing, 
sign  a  compact  in  the  cabin  of  the  Mayflower,  and 
organize  themselves  into  a  government ;  but  that 
they  did  not  rest  the  obligation  to  obedience  upon 
the  assent  of  each  individual  will,  is  evident  from 


140  Sermons, 

the  fact  that  they  made  no  provision  for  securing 
the  assent  of  their  children  to  those  civil  institu- 
tions into  which  they  should  be  born.  These  men 
did  not  indeed  rest  their  charter  upon  their  own 
compact  at  all.  They  derived  their  powers,  not 
from  each  other,  but  from  th^  source  of  all  authority 
and  so  began  their  solemn  compact,  "  In  the  name 
of  God,  amen."  What  they  did  was  not  to 
originate  a  government,  but  out  of  the  social  ma- 
terials imbued  with  the  divine  authority,  to  give 
that  pre-existing  and  invisible  authority  a  formal 
organization. 

The  illustration  is  rendered  more  complete,  if  we 
turn  from  the  Plymouth  colony,  to  that  which  was 
formed  a  few  years  later  in  New  Haven.  The 
settlers  who,  under  the  lead  of  Davenport,  founded 
that  plantation,  did  not  proceed  so  fast  as  their 
Massachusetts  brethren.  They  existed  under  a 
provisional  agreement,  called  the  plantation  cove- 
nant, for  fourteen  months  before  they  adopted  a 
more  formal  and  solemn  constitution,  and  existed 
for  an  indefinite  period  of  some  weeks  or  days, 
with  no  covenant  at  all. 

Now  if  the  theory  is  correct,  that  the  existence 
of  the  state  depended  upon  the  compact,  what  was 
the  condition  of  things  during  the  partial  and  pro- 
visional plantation  covenant }  Was  the  colony  less 
a  state  then,  less  endowed  with  all  the  functions 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty,        14I 

and  sanctions  of  civil  government,  than  fourteen 
months  afterwards  ?  And  what  was  the  condition 
of  affairs  before  the  adoption  even  of  the  planta- 
tion covenant  ?  Were  the  colonists  in  a  state  of 
nature,  with  no  right  to  defend  their  rights  or  pro- 
vide for  the  common  welfare,  with  no  power  or- 
dained of  God  to  maintain  law  and  order  ?  Nay, 
no  skeptical  malefactor,  whatever  his  theories  upon 
the  subject,  would  have  ventured  to  have  encoun- 
tered that  latent  yet  efficient  majesty  of  law,  which 
would  speedily  have  vindicated  its  right  to  punish 
him. 

The  true  source  of  authority  both  in  church  and 
state,  has  been  so  admirably  presented  by  a  recent 
writer,  that  I  shall  finish  what  I  have  to  say  in  op- 
position to  the  theory  of  the  social-contract  as  the 
source  of  government,  by  quoting  his  words. 

"According  to  this  theory,  the  colonists  of  New 
Haven  from  the  time  when  they  came  out  from 
under  the  ship's  captain,  at  least  until  the  close  of 
the  first  day  of  fasting  and  prayer  when  they 
formed  their  provisional  plantation  covenant,  were 
in  a  state  of  nature.  They  were  not  a  community, 
but  only  the  individuals  who  might  become  a  com- 
munity whenever  they  should  agree  to  act  in  com- 
mon. They  Were  not  society,  but  only  the  raw 
materials  of  society.  There  was  neither  a  com- 
monwealth nor  a  church  among  them,  but  only  the 


142  Sermons. 

possibility  6f  these.  By  and  by  they  concluded  to 
have  a  state  and  church,  and  so  they  got  together 
in  a  barn  and  created  them,  appointing  officers 
with  divine  authority  for  administering  the  func- 
tions of  the  two  institutions  ;  authority  which,  up 
to  that  time,  had  not  existed  in  the  colony.  Before 
that,  the  execution  of  a  malefactor  would  have  been 
an  act  of  murder,  either  of  private  revenge  or  of 
mob  violence.  Defensive  hostilities  against  the 
Indians  would  have  been  simply  the  fighting  of 
every  man  on  his  own  hook,  except  so  far  as  indi- 
viduals might  have  chosen  to  club  together  accord- 
ing to  their  preference  for  leaders.  But  any  exercise 
of  command  on  the  part  of  him  to  whom  the  instincts 
of  the  people  should  turn  as  their  natural  military 
leader,  or  any  attempt  to  coerce  the  shirks  and  the 
cowards  into  the  common  defense,  would  have  been 
an  act  of  tyranny  and  usurpation,  there  having 
been  no  unanimous,  mutual  agreement  of  the  col- 
onists to  concede  their  individual  rights  to  this 
extent.  And  when,  after  experiencing  the  incon- 
veniences of  the  state  of  nature,  the  colonists 
began  to  frame  their  covenant,  there  was  no  right 
among  them  to  compel  into  the  arrangement  any 
individual  who  preferred  at  his  own  risk,  to  live 
among  them  but  not  of  them,  as  a  quiet  and  peace* 
able  outlaw.  The  uncovenanted  citizen  might  be 
derelict  of  a  moral  duty,  in  thus  standing  aloof 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty,        I43 

from  the  mutual  engagements  of  the  rest,  but  the 
powers  arising  out  of  the  agreement  of  ninety-nine 
of  the  population  could  not  extend  over  the  one 
hundredth  man  who  had  declined  to  be  a  party  to 
the  contract." 

Such  are  the  inevitable  and  fatal  difficulties 
which  environ  the  subject  of  government,  if  we 
adopt  the  views  of  the  Jacobin  revolutionists  and  seek 
to  give  to  civil  authority  a  merely  human  origin. 

II. — It  now  remains  for  us  to  explain  the  opposing 
theory,  which  has  at  least  the  advantage  of  being 
intelligible  ;  and  which  regards  the  state  as  existing 
independent  of  any  formal  agreement,  by  virtue  of  a 
Divine  authority,  wherever  men  dwell  together. 

I  wish,  in  the. first  place,  to  show  that  this  theory 
is  rational.  We  have  seen  that  the  contrary  doc- 
trine of  the  necessity  of  a  formal  consent  to  be  in- 
cluded in  society  and  government,  leads  into  a 
labyrinth  of  error  and  absurdity.  If  now  we  turn 
to  the  constitution  of  human  nature  as  created  by 
God,  we  shall  find  that  society  and  civil  govern- 
ment are  involved  in  the  very  existence  of  man. 
Man  is  a  social  being.  When  social  beings  are 
brought  together,  there  is  society.  Where  there  is 
society,  there  is  always  a  latent  authority  which, 
when  necessary,  asserts  its  majesty,  and  this  au- 
thority, thus  involved  in  the  very  fact  of  society, 
comes  from  the  divine  Author  of  society  and  of  man. 


144  Sermons. 

Since  therefore  government  depends  upon  socie- 
ty, and  society  upon  men's  social  nature,  wherever 
there  are  men,  we  have  society ;  and  wherever 
there  is  society,  we  have  government,  eithe.r  with 
formal  organization  or  without  it.  Men  brought 
together  into  a  social  sphere  will  as  naturally  fall 
into  government  of  some  kind,  as  stars  fall  into 
orbits  and  steer  clear  of  chaos.  In  the  first  rude  ' 
ages,  the  strongest  will  be  chief  The  cunning  will 
be  king,  which  is  what  the  name  implies.  In  more 
refined  ages  and  peoples,  it  may  be  arranged  that 
the  wisest  and  best  shall  govern.  Sometimes  there 
will  be  a  government  like  that  of  Nimrod  ;  some- 
times like  that  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers.  Now  it 
will  be  like  the  constitutional  monarchy  of  Eng« 
land  ;  now  that  of  the  Vigilance  Committee  of  Cali- 
fornia. Government  of  some  kind  is  necessary  and 
always  exists.  Its  form  of  organism  depends  upon 
the  character  and  circumstances  of  the  people.  In 
the  English  law  it  is  held  that  the  king  never  dies  ; 
and  by  this  is  asserted  just  this  truth  which  we 
have  stated,  that  there  never  can  be  a  gap  or  inter- 
regnum in  the  government.  Rulers  may  come  and 
go,  laws  may  be  enacted  and  repealed,  but  govern^ 
ment  in  some  shape  is  coeval  with  the  life  of  nlert. 
We  have  indeed  read  of  a  recent  instance  of  a  nidn 
of  eminent  abilities,  Who  lived  and  died  in  Massa- 
chusetts;  Who  never  married,  never  voted,  never 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty.         145 

paid  taxes,  never  went  to  church,  never  mingled  with 
society,  who  lived  in  the  woods  yet  never  used  trap 
or  gun,  who,  in  short,  took  for  his  ideal  that  state  of 
nature  of  which  the  sentimental  philosopher  speaks 
so  often.  Now,  if  all  men  were  like  Thoreau,  there 
could  be  no  society  and,  of  course,  no  government. 
But  this  man  was  a  singular  exception,  as  is  proved 
by  the  notoriety  which  is  given  to  his  character. 

We  may  take  another  illustration  from  the 
family.  What  constitutes  a  family  }  There  is  an 
agreement  between  two  persons  which  constitutes 
marriage,  but  the  real  bond  is  in  the  love  which  pre- 
cedes the  marriage  vow.  The  family  implies  chil- 
dren ;  but  how  do  the  children  become  members 
of  the  family  }  Do  infants  have  a  convention  and 
agree  to  be  the  children  of  the  parents  }  Is  there  any 
formal  consent  needed  on  their  part  to  complete 
their  obligation  to  obey  their  parents  in  the  Lord } 
No,  they  are  born  into  the  family  relation.  They 
are  always,  from  the  beginning,  under  parental 
government.  God  has  so  arranged  it  in  the  con- 
stitution of  things.  If  therefore  any  one  can  un- 
derstand how  the  family  exists,  he  can  also  under- 
stand how  the  state  exists,  by  virtue  of  the  appoint- 
ment of  God,  and  involves,  by  its  very  existence,  re- 
ciprocal rights  and  obligations  which  are  not  de- 
pendent upon  the  choice  of  individuals,  but  are  the 
condi«tion  by  which  they  live. 

7  ♦ 


146  Sermons. 

I  shall  illustrate  and  fortify  what  I  have  said,  by 
a  fine  passage  from  Edmund  Burke,  the  most  phil- 
osophical and  the  most  practical,  and  I  may  add, 
the  most  Christian  of  statesmen.  "  Taking  it  for 
granted,"  he  says,  "  that  I  do  not  write  to  the  dis- 
ciples of  the  Parisian  philosophy,  I  may  assume 
that  the  awful  author  of  our  being,  is  the  author  of 
our  place  in  theorder  of  existence  ;  and  that  having 
disposed  and  marshalled  us  by  a  divine  tactic,  not 
according  to  our  will  but  according  to  His,  He  has 
in  and  by  that  disposition,  virtually  subjected  us  to 
act  the  part  which  belongs  to  the  place  assigned 
us.  We  have  obligations  to  mankind  at '  large, 
which  are  not  in  consequence  of  any  voluntary 
compact.  They  arise  from  the  relation  of  man  to 
man  and  the  relation  of  man  to  God,  which  rela- 
tions are  not  matter  of  choice.  *  *  *  Dark 
and  inscrutable  are  the  ways  by  which  we  come 
into  the  world.  The  instincts  which  give  rise  to 
this  mysterious  process  of  nature  are  not  of  our 
making.  But  out  of  physical  causes  unknown  toj 
us,  perhaps  unknowable,  arise  moral  duties  which,, 
as  we  are  able  perfectly  to  comprehend,  we  are 
bound  indispensably  to  perform.  Parents  may  not: 
be  consenting  to  their  m.oral  relation  ;  but  consent- 
ing or  not,  they  are  h(<)Vind  to  a  long  train  of  bur- 
densome duties  towe^H^i  those  with  v,5hom  they  have 
never  made  a  convojitipn  ^f  any  sort,    (^fedldren  are. 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty,         147 

not  consenting  to  their  relation,  but  their  relation 
without  their  actual  consent,  binds  them  to  its 
duties,  or  rather  it  implies  their  consent  because 
the  presumed  consent  of  every  rational  creature  is 
in  unison  with  the  predisposed  order  of  things. 
Men  come  in  that  manner  into  a  community,  with 
the  social  state  of  their  parents,  endowed  with  all 
the  benefits,  loaded  with  all  the  duties  of  their  situ- 
ation. If  the  social  ties  and  ligaments  spun  out  of 
those  physical  relations  which  are  the  elements  of 
the  commonwealth,  in  most  cases  begin  and  always 
continue  independently  of  our  will,  so,  without  any 
stipulation  on  our  part,  are  we  bound  by  that  rela- 
tion called  our  country,  which  comprehends,  as  it 
has  been  well  said,  'all  the  charities  of  all '  !" 

This  passage  shows,  in  a  clear  and  convincing 
manner,  that  the  proposition  with  which  we  started 
is  true,  that  society  and  government  are  based  on 
the  divine  order  of  things,  and  interwoven  into  the 
frame-work  of  existence. 

In  corroboration  of  this  philosophy  of  govern- 
ment, stand  the  declarations  of  the  Scriptures,  that 
government  is  of  divine  origin.  The  particular 
kind  of  government  which  God  revealed  to  the 
Jews,  was  a  commonwealth.  But  in  the  course  of 
centuries  the  people  demanded  a  king,  like  the  rest 
of  the  nations  around  them.  The  Almighty, 
through    His  prophet,  interposed  valid  objections 


148  Sermons. 

against  this  form  of  government.  But  when  the 
people  insisted,  the  Lord  assisted  in  the  choice, 
and  the  obligation  was  as  binding  under  the  mon- 
archy as  under  the  commonwealth.  Those  whose 
hearts  God  had  touched  were  loyal.  The  good-for- 
nothing  despisers  of  God  were  the  despisers  of  the 
Lord's  anointed.  Thus  the  Jewish  government,  in 
its  various  forms,  was  a  type  of  all  government 
The  particular  form  was  given  by  man,  even,  as  we 
have  seen,  in  opposition  to  the  will  of  God  ;  but 
government  itself,  independent  of  the  manner  of 
its  organization,  found  its  author  and  its  head,  not 
in  any  earthly  magistrate,  but  in  the  Almighty 
Ruler. 

To  the  same  purport  is  the  clear  and  striking 
declaration  of  the  apostle  Paul,  when  cautioning 
the  Roman  Christians  against  rebellion.  He  says, 
"  Let  every  soul  be  subject  unto  the  higher  powers. 
For  there  is  no  power  but  of  God  ;  the  powers  that 
be  are  ordained  of  God.  Whosoever  therefore  re- 
sisteth  the  power,  resisteth  the  ordinance  of  God  ; 
and  they  that  resist  shall  receive  to  themselves 
damnation."  There  are  various  other  passages  al- 
most as  decisive.  Thus,  in  the  Old  Testament,  the 
magistrates  are  called  gods,  as  being  invested  with 
God's  authority.  And  Peter  gives  us  the  same 
philosophy.  "  Submit  yourselves  to  every  ordi- 
nance of  man  for  the  Lord's  sake  :  whether  it  be  to 


The  CJiristiaii  Doctrine  of  Loyalty.         149 

the  King,  as  supreme  ;  or  unto  governors,  as  unto 
them  that  are  sent  by  Him  for  the  punishment  of 
evil-doers,  and  for  the  praise  of  them  that  do  well. 
For  so  is  the  will  of  God." 

Retracing,  then,  the  ground  over  which  we  have 
advanced,  we  find  the  theory  of  the  human  origina- 
tion of  government  to  be  futile,  and  the  rational 
and  Christian  theory  to  be,  that  the  state,  like  the 
family,  is  a  divine  institution.  This  position  is 
based  alike  on  reason  and  on  revelation.  *'The 
powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God."  Such  is  the 
premise,  and  what  must  be  the  conclusion  }  Sim- 
ply that  of  the  apostle,  that  they  that  resist  the  or- 
dinance of  God  shall  receive  to  themselves  dam- 
nation. 

The  apparent  objection  to  this  conclusion,  that 
men  in  certain  circumstances  have  the  right  of 
revolution,  only  proves  the  rule.  There  is  a  right 
of  revolution  founded  in  necessity.  When  the 
great  ends  of  government  are  overthrown  ;  when 
men  are  not  protected  in  their  natural  rights  but 
deprived  of  them,  there  is  a  moral  right,  and  not 
only  a  right,  but  a  duty  of  resistance.  On  the 
same  ground  of  reasoning,  a  child  deprived,  by  an 
unnatural  father,  of  the  rights  of  a  son,  or  commanded 
by  him  to  do  a  wicked  action,  may  lawfully  be  dis- 
obedient to  the  parental  command  ;  but  the  excep- 
tion does    not  invalidate  the  fifth  commandment. 


150  Sermons. 

Neither  does  the  right  of  revolution,  in  extreme 
cases,  justify  disobedience  to  the  powers  that  be, 
and  thus  nullify  the  command  of  God  and  the  set- 
tled order  of  the  universe.  Still  it  remains  true,  as 
the  word  of  God,  that  civil  government  is  the  ordi- 
nance of  God  ;  and  that  they  who  resist  the  ordi- 
nance of  God,  receive  to  themselves  damnation. 
The  powers  that  be  are  of  divine  origin  and  au- 
thority, and  therefore  every  man  born  under  those 
powers  is  under  a  divine  obligation  to  be  loyal. 

The  Christian  doctrine  of  loyalty,  as  thus  estab- 
lished, cuts  with  a  two-edged  sword  against  the  two 
prevalent  forms  of  disloyalty,  treason  on  the  one 
hand  and  faction  on  the  other. 

I. — In  the  first  place,  we  see  the  guilt  of  those 
rebels  who  are  resisting  the  authority  of  the  Amer- 
ican government. 

The  doctrine  is  that  the  American  government, — 
the  "  powers  that  be"  in  the  United  States, — is  of 
divine  origin  and  authority  ;  and,  therefore,  that 
they  who  are,  with  armed  force,  contending  for  its 
overthrow,  are  fighting  against  God. 

In  this  case  there  can  be  no  extenuation  of  guilt 
derived  from  a  moral  necessity,  which  is  the  char- 
ter of  a  revolution.  For,  first,  the  American 
government  has  never  failed  in  the  great  ends  of 
government,  which  are,  to  secure  the  natural  rights 
of  men.     In  the  preceding  history  of  mankind  there 


The  Christian  Docifiiie  of  Loyalty.         1 5 1 

has  been  no  case  so  clear  ds  this.  This  govern- 
ment more  than  any  other  form  organized  by  man, 
has  been  the  protector  of  life,  liberty,  and  the  pur- 
suit of  happiness.  This  is  not  the  exceptional  case 
of  the  child  released  from  obligation  to  an  un- 
natural parent.  The  most  sagacious  of  the  South- 
ern leaders  repeatedly  acknowledged  this,  when  he 
besought  the  people  of  his  native  state  not  to  rush 
into  rebellion  without  a  cause. 

The  single  fact  that  the  South  existed  under  a 
government  in  which  their  own  representatives  had 
(equal  powers  with  any  others  to  change  the  laws, 
in  accordance  with  the  principle  of  the  rule  of  the 
majority,  takes  their  case  out  of  the  exceptions. 
Whatever  may  be  said  of  other  extremists, 
people  living  under  a  self-government  can  never 
find  a  justification  for  rebellion.  If  the  divine 
command  of  obedience  to  the  constituted  authori- 
ties has  any  significance,  and  is  ever  to  be  obeyed 
at  all,  it  must  be  in  a  government  like  that  of  the 
American  republic.  If,  at  any  time  since  the  crea- 
tion, the  powers  that  be  have  been  ordained  of 
God,  it  is  the  time  since  the  formation  of  the 
American  constitution.  If  ever  men  resisted  the 
ordinance  of  God,  these  secessionists  have  resisted 
it.  If  ever  men  will  receive  damnation  for  so  doing, 
it  will  fall  upon  the  heads  of  the  armed  traitors  of 
the  South. 


152  Sermons. 

2. — We  see  the  guilt  of  those  who,  for  selfish  of 
partisan  purposes,  oppose  and  thwart  the  govern- 
ment. This  form  of  disloyalty,  as  distinguished 
from  treason,  is  designated  as  faction.  Without 
seeking  to  overthrow  the  government,  faction  seeks 
to  discredit  it,  embarrass  it,  and  defeat  its  legitimate 
operation.  It  more  commonly  takes  the  form  of 
opposition  to  the  power  which  executes  the  govern- 
ment. It  is  an  unlawful  enmity  to  the  administra- 
tion. It  will  be  seen  upon  reflection,  that  the  guilt 
of  faction  is  similar  in  kind  to  that  of  treason,  and 
dissimilar  only  in  degree.  So  far  as  it  aims  to 
defeat  the  intent  of  government,  especially  when 
the  government  is  engaged  in  a  desperate  contest 
for  self-existence,  so  far  faction  is  criminal  and 
sinful.  The  administration  is  practically  insepar- 
able from  the  government.  It  is  government  in  its 
tangible,  working  organization.  It  is  the  body  of 
the  governmental  soul.  The  majesty  and  authority 
of  government  is  for  the  time  lodged  in  the  chief 
magistrate,  and  we  are  bound  to  recognize  and 
reverence  him  accordingly. 

Such  accordingly  is  the  teaching  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. After  Paul  has  shown  the  guilt  of  resist- 
ance to  the  government,  he  shows  further  the 
guilt  of  resisting  the  administration.  He  declares 
that  the  ruler  is  the  minister  of  God  for  good. 
"  But  if  thou  do  that  which   is  evil,  be  afraid ;  for 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty.  153 

he  bcareth  not  the  sword  in  vain  ;  for  he  is  the 
minister  of  God,  a  revenger  to  execute  wrath  upon 
him  that  doeth  evil.  Wherefore  ye  must  needs  be 
subject,  not  only  for  wrath  "  (that  is,  to  avoid  punish- 
ment), "  but  also  for  conscience'  sake.  For,  for 
this  cause  pay  ye  tribute  also"  (that  is  taxes)  :  *'  for 
they  are  God's  ministers,  attending  continually 
upgn  this  very  thing." 

The  same  lesson  is  unfolded  in  the  text.  ThQ 
disloyalty  of  the  opponents  of  Saul  took  this  very 
form  of  faction.  They  did  not  contest  his  election 
with  armed  force,  but  they  despised  him,  sent  him 
no  presents,  and  .sought  in  every  factious  way  to 
undermine  his  magisterial  authority.  These  men, 
we  are  told,  were  sons  of  Belial,  wicked,  good- 
for-nothing  fellows. 

It  follows  then  that  the  guilt  of  resisting  the 
administration  is  the  same  as  that  of  resisting  the 
government,  since  government  and  administration 
are  practically  identical.  In  either  case,  the  resist- 
ance is  against  the  powers  that  are  ordained  of 
God,  and  so  there  is  a  sliding  scale  of  guilt  from 
the  lowest  form  of  faction,  to  the  highest  manifes- 
tation of  treason  ;  and  the  individual  guilt  is  deter- 
mined by  its  position  in  the  scale.  All  faction  is 
not  treason,  but  all  treason  includes  faction  as  its 
germ. 

In  human  law,  it  is  often   difficult  to  adjust  the 


154  ScniionL 

guilt  of  faction  and  of  treason.  The  one  so  blends 
with  the  other,  that  they  are  not  easily  separated. 
And  the  law  justly  demands  some  clear,  overt  act 
of  resistance  as  the  ground  of  condemnation. 
Hence,  mere  faction  can  do  much  mischief  before 
it  assumes  the  dimensions  of  treason. 

But  morally,  faction  is  a  violation  of  the  law  of 
God.  It  is  resistance,  though  not  armed  resist- 
^tance,  to  the  divine  institution  of  government.  It 
is  treason  in  the  bud,  and  the  guilt  of  treason  rests 
upon  the  soul  in  exact  proportion  to  the  extent  of 
the  resistance. 

To  these  sons  of  Belial,  no  less  than  to  their 
elder  brothers,  comes  the  warning  of  the  Almighty. 
They  that  resist  the  ordinance  of  God,  shall  re- 
ceive to  themselves  damnation. 

3. — We  see  the  duty  of  the  Christian  church  in 
reference  to  the  sin  of  treason. 

It  has  been  shown  that  the  crime  against  the  na- 
tion is  ultimately  a  transgression  against  God. 
Treason  is  sin.  Traitors  then  are  sinners,  for  they 
violate  the  most  sacred  commands  of  God,  and 
therefore  they  are  to  be  treated  like  any  other 
heinous  transgressors.  They  are  to  be  opposed 
with  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  and  their  actions  to 
be  judged  with  all  the  extenuations  of  charity. 
But  they  are  to  be  regarded  as  sinners.  They  are, 
until  they  repent,  unworthy  of  Christian  fellowship 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty.  155 

aiid  if  professing  Christians,  ought  to  be  disci- 
plined by  the  church  of  which  they  are  members. 
Their  ^proclamations  of  fasting  are  blasphemy. 
Their  prayers  ?ind  thanksgivings"  are  an  abomina- 
tion unto  the  Lord.  God  is  angry  with  them 
every  day. 

Their  guilt  falls  under  the  especial  cognizance 
of  Christian  ministers  and  so-called  courts  of 
Christ.  Every  synod,  assembly,  convention  and 
conference,  is  bound  by  its  fundamental  law  of 
obedience  to  God,  to  purge  itself  of  any  complicity 
with  this  known  and  heaven-defying  sin.  If  they 
do  not  oppose  sin,  they  are  themselves  sinners,  in 
danger  of  the  just  judgment  of  God.  Every 
Christian  minister  is  bound  by  the  terms  of  his 
ordination  to  preach  agamst  the  sin  of  disloyalty, 
as  against  any  other  sin,  and  on  terms  proportioned 
to  its  enormity.  He  is  to  declare  with  the  pro- 
phet, that  rebellion  is  as  the  sin  of  witchcraft. 
He  is  to  show  that  traitors  are  not  only  liable  to 
confiscation  and  execution  in  this  world,  but,  unless 
they  repent,  are  doomed  to  everlasting  punishment 
in  the  next.  These  duties  are  inevitable  if  dis- 
loyalty is  sin. 

4. — We  see  finally  abundant  reason  for  thanks- 
giving to  God,  for  the  loyalty  manifested  by  the 
American  people. 

Going  back   to   the   definition   of    loyalty  with 


156  Sermons. 

which  we  started,  viz.,  fidelity  to  the  existing 
government  as  administered  by  its  lawful  head,  we 
find  that  the  American  people  have  attested  their 
loyalty  by  the  unsparing  sacrifice  of  all  that  men 
hold  dear. 

They  have  resisted  those  to  the  death  who  have 
resisted  the  ordinance  of  God.  A  million  of  men, 
heroes  of  the  noblest  mould,  have  set  themselves 
as  a  living  wall  against  the  embattled  ranks  of 
treason.  Their  blood  has  reddened  a  hundred 
battle-fields.  Their  agonies  have  been  seen  by 
God  upon  the  bloody  stretcher  and  the  rude  forest 
bed.  Thousands  of  them  are,  on  this  Thanksgiving 
day,  this  happy  day  of  feasting  and  of  joy,  this 
day  of  the  reunion  of  sundered  loves,  starving  to 
death  in  the  horrors  of  Southern  bondage,  without 
a  murmur  or  a  tear.  And  what  is  all  this  for,  but 
to  maintain  the  government,  and  defend  the  or- 
dinance of  God }  Was  there  ever  a  sublimer  ex- 
hibition of  loyalty  .?  We  are  told,  that  when  the 
brave  and  true-hearted  Major-General  Birney 
passed  away  from  earth  in  the  delirium  of  fever, 
his  thoughts  were  fixed  upon  his  country.  Sud- 
denly raising  himself  in  bed,  his  eyes  blazing  with 
the  fire  that  consumed  him,  he  cried  with  a  trum- 
pet voice,  "  Boys,  keep  your  eyes  on  that  flag  !  " 
and  fell  back  dead.  That  farewell  word  is  the 
rallying  cry  of  the  nation,  and   to-day  millions   of 


The  CJiristian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty.         157 

men  are  keeping  their  eyes  on  that  flag,  and  de- 
clare in  life  and  death  that  it  shall  never  be  dis- 
honored or  stricken  down  by  traitors. 

The  people  have  also  in  a  remarkable  manner 
evinced  their  loyalty  to  the  administration.  A 
man  of  the  people,  believing  in  the  people,  with 
soul  on  fire  to  preserve  the  government,  yet  dread- 
ing to  go  forth  alone  without  the  support  of  the 
people,  the  President  has  waited  to  see  whether 
the  people  would  stand  b}^  him  ;  whether  there  was 
a  loyal  band  whose  hearts  God  had  touched,  who 
would  attend  him  and  support  him  and  pay  him 
the  tribute  of  reverence  and  fidelity  as  the  minister 
of  God.  The  men  of  Belial  have  reviled  him  and 
brought  him  no  presents,  and  have  said.  How  can 
this  man  save  us  t  But  he  has  held  his  peace,  and 
waited  for  the  loyal  Christian  people  to  declare 
their  choice.  This  choice  was  given  on  the  elec- 
tion day  which  has  just  passed  away.  It  came  as 
the  voice  of  many  waters,  as  the  sound  of  many 
thousands  of  chariots  upon  their  iron  axles.  It 
came  from  the  West  and  from  the  East,  from  the 
free  North  and  from  the  emancipated  South.  It 
came  with  the  momentum  of  such  a  majority  as  is 
unknown  within  the  memory  of  man  ;  and  the  in- 
terpretation of  that  voice  to  the  President  was, 
"  Stand  by  the  Union  and  we  will  stand  by  you." 
Whatever  may  be  true  of  others,  every  man  that 


1 5  S  Sermons-. 

voted  for  the  President,  voted  for  hini  as  the  de- 
fender of  the  government,  as  the  Commander-in- 
chief  of  the  armies  that  are  to  vanquish  all  treason 
and  rebellion.  This  is  not  the  success  of  party. 
It  is  the  victory  of  loyalty,  the  preservation  of  the 
government. 

With  such  heroic  sacrifice  in  the  field,  made 
available  by  the  genius  of  Grant  and  the  stern 
energy  of  Sherman,  supported  by  the  majestic 
strength  and  calm  which  has  just  been  exhibited  in 
the  political  contest  at  home,  we  may  reasonably 
conclude  that  the  nation  is  to  come  forth  unharmed 
from  the  shock  of  battle,  and  that  we  may  now 
devoutly  offer  thanksgiving  to  God  for  this  great 
assurance  that  we  shall  not  die  but  live,  and 
declare  the  works  of  the  Lord. 

Geologists  tell  us  that,  far  back  in  the  ages  of  the 
past  Eternity,  the  earth  was  a  molten  abyss, 
devoid  of  life,  enveloped  with  a  firmament  of  thick 
and  scalding  steam,  beneath  which  the  ocean 
waters  boiled  like  a  pot. 

Vast  masses  of  liquified  strata  were  thrown  up- 
ward by  the  action  of  the  central  fires,  and 
islands  and  continents  rose  and  fell  like  leviathans 
sporting  in  the  tempestuous  deep. 

Who  could  have  seen,  in  this  fierce  encounter  of 
wind  and  rock  and  wave,  the  promise  of  the  para- 
dise } 


The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Loyalty.         159 

Yet  this  convulsion  and  upheaval  was  Eden's 
foundation  and  preparation.  The  elemental  war 
went  on.  Huge  tracts  became  habitable.  Mon- 
sters and  mastodons  shook  the  land  and  tossed  the 
sea,  or  blotted  out  the  sun  with  crocodilian  wings. 
And  at  last,  when  convulsions  and  cataclysms 
were  ended  and  the  world  was  done,  then  the  cattle 
dreamed  upon  the  greensward,  the  bee  hummed 
amid  the  flowers,  the  bird  of  paradise  gleamed  and 
glistened  amid  the  embowering  palm  trees,  and 
man  himself,  the  noblest  born  of  earth,  walked 
hand  in  hand  with  angels,  in  that  golden  Sabbath 
when  God  looked  down  upon  His  finished  work, 
and  pronounced  it  good. 

So  shall  it  be  with  the  nation  redeemed  by  loy- 
alty from  treason.  We  h^ve  had  conflict  and  com- 
motion. State  has  dashed  against  State,  and  these 
against  the  nation.  The  dragons  of  slavery  and 
disloyalty  have  stalked  across  the  trembling  land. 
The  powers  that  be  have  been  seething  in  a  mael- 
strom of  sanguinary  war,  and  the  moral  heavens 
have  been  enveloped  in  darkness.  But  all  this  is 
but  the  Divine  i^reparation  for  the  confirmation  of 
government,  the  Eden  of  liberty,  the  Sabbath  of 
peace. 

Therefore  while  to-day  we  praise  God  for  safety, 
for  plenty,  for  wealth  and  happiness,  for  the  mercies 
of  the  basket  and  the  store,  and  for  all  the  ordinary 


1 60  Sermons. 

blessings  of  existence,  we  praise  Him,  most  of  all^ 
that  He  has  touched  the  hearts  of  the  American 
people,  and  has  inspired  them  with  that  loyalty 
which  includes  within  it,  victory,  liberty,  peace  and 
every  benefit  attainable  by  man  ;  and  is  destined 
to  lead  humanity  to  that  fruition  of  salvation 
which  is  garnered  up  in  the  sacrifice  and  kingdom 
of  our  Lord  and  Savior  Jesus  Christ ;  to  whom 
with  the  Father  and  Holy  Spirit,  be  all  glory  and 
dominion,  blessing  and  thanksgiving,  now  and  for- 
ever, world  without  end.     Amen. 


THE    PILGRIM    TEMPLE- 
BUILDERS. 


THE  PILGRIM  TEMPLE-BUILDERS. 


"  Walk  about  Zion,  and  go  round  about  her  ;  tell  the  towers 
thereof ;  mark  ye  well  her  bulwarks  ;  consider  her  palaces,  that  ye 
may  tell  it  to  the  generation  following." 

Psalm  xlviii.  12,  13. 

That  genial  and  true-hearted  messenger  of  the 
English  Churches  to  the  Boston  Council,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Raleigh,  presented,  upon  his  return  to  the 
mother-land,  this  fair  picture  of  New  England, 
from  the  summit  of  Mt.  Holyoke  :  ''  I  stood  one 
day  on  a  hill-top  near  Northampton,  commanding 
a  vast  and  various  view,  one  of  the  finest  of  the 
kind  in  the  whole  world.  We  had  crept  up  slowly 
— a  gentleman  of  Northampton  and  myself — for  it 
was  a  hot  Summer  day,  through  the  leafy  woods, 
now  admiring  the  beauty  of  the  foliage  and  now 
talking  of  the  past  and  the  present  of  England  and 
America,  when  all  at  once  we  emerged  from  the 
umbrage  and  stood  upon  the  hill-top.  There  came 
to  my  lips  in  a  moment  some  lines  of  Thompson's 
Seasons,  which  had  been  in  my  memory  since  boy- 
hood,  and   which   I    had    always   thought   rather 


1 66  Sermons. 

mythical,  considered  as  the  description  of  an  actual 
scene : 

"  *  Heavens  !  what  a  goodly  prospect  spreads  around, 
Of  hills  and  dales  and  woods  and  lawns  and  spires, 
And  glittering  towns  and  gilded  streams,  till  all 
The  stretching  landscape  into  smoke  decays.' 

"Thirty  Church-spires  are  visible  from  that  hill- 
top to  a  practised  eye,  every  one  of  them  the  spire 
of  a  parish  Church,  and  every  one  of  them  Inde- 
pendent." 

Then,  coming  down  from  the  mountain,  this 
clear-eyed  observer — this  subject  of  another  realm 
— wrote  this  estimate  of  New  England  character  : 
*'  I  only  know  this,  that  my  impression  is  that  I 
have  never  seen  anywhere  in  the  world — not  even 
in  this  dear  Old  England — a  state  of  society  on 
the  whole  so  good  as  I  saw  in  the  heart  of  New 
England.  None  are  poor  to  dependence  or  starva- 
tion ;  none  are  ignorant.  Their  land  enriches 
them  with  plenty  ;  their  common  schools  inform 
them  and  enlighten  them ;  their  free  religious 
teaching  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to 
very  many  of  them,  and  it  is  a  moral  safeguard  to 
them  all." 

Taking  a  still  wider  survey  of  our  free  institu- 
tions, let  us  ask  ourselves  the  question  :  What  is 
the  source  of  this  prosperity  and  freedom  ;  zvhat  is  it 
that  made  New  England  tvhat  she  is  to-day  ? 

Just  previous  to  the  great  eruption  of  the  civil 


The  Pilgrim   Temple-Builders.  167 

war  it  was  my  fortune  to  climb  another  hill  of 
vision,  in  one  of  the  central  counties  of  Virginia. 
The  panorama  of  nature  was  even  grander  than 
that  which  enfolds  the  lovely  valley  of  the  Connec- 
ticut. Far  along  from  North  to  South,  like  a  huge 
wall  builded  by  the  giants  and  flanked  with  dreamy 
towers  and  buttresses  of  purple,  ran  the  line  of  the 
Blue  Ridge.  On  the  distant  slopes  and  crags  the 
solemn  old  forests  slumbered  and  nodded  to  the 
wind  of  May.  Far  to  the  eastward  was  the  white 
winding  ribbon  of  the  James  River,  and  nearer, 
the  broad  but  turbid  current  of  the  Rapidan.  A 
single  town  was  visible  upon  the  horizon  ;  the  re- 
mainder of  the  scene  was  composed  of  broad  plan- 
tations. On  these  the  young  crops  of  wheat  and 
tobacco  displayed  their  verdant  leafage.  The 
peach  trees  wore  their  rosy  bloom  ;  the  air  was 
musical  with  the  songs  of  free  and  happy  birds, 
and  fragrant  with  the  wealth  of  unnumbered  tribes 
of  forest  flowers.  Thus  did  nature  lavish  her 
fairest  charms  around  that  well-worn  hill  of  Monti- 
cello,  the  resting  place  of  Jefferson. 

But  how  diflerent  were  the  moral  aspects  of  the 
scene  from  that  bright  New  England  prospect ! 
The  dearth  of  villages  revealed  the  lack  of  enter- 
prise. The  absence  of  school-houses  betrayed  the 
deeper  lack  of  education.  Those  plantations,  so 
rich  and  ample,  spoke  of  thousands  of  wretched 


1 68  Sermons. 

human  beings  driven  to  ceaseless  toil,  like  oxen 
with  the  lash.  In  those  aristocratic  mansions,  ris- 
ing up  proudly  out  of  the  squalid  huts  of  worse 
than  paupers,  the  pampered  owners  were  even  then, 
on  that  sweet  May  morning  of  i860,  plotting  the 
blackest  crime,  save  one,  which  ever  stained  the 
page  of  history, — the  crime  of  assassinating  the 
accumulated  freedom  of  all  the  ages,  that  human 
bondage  might  be  eternal.  What  made  that  moral 
picture  so  different  from  the  bright  prospect  of  New 
England? 

The  answer  to  these  inquiries  is  to  be  found  far 
back,  in  the  very  origin  of  the  Old  Colony  and  the 
Old  Dominion.  When  the  Pilgrims  touched  the 
shores  of  Massachusetts,  the  whole  country.  North 
and  South,  was  named  Virginia.*  But  the  Vir- 
ginians of  Plymouth  Rock  were  men  who  had  lit- 
tle in  common  with  the  Virginians  of  the  James 
River.  Two  settlements  of  kindred  stock  were 
established  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  but  from  the 
very  beginning  it  was  evident  that  they  were  as 
unlike  in  character  as  the  twins  of  the  patriarch 
Isaac.  Two  nations  were  in  the  womb,  and  two 
manners  of  people  were  separated  from  the  matrix 
of  the  mother-land. 

*  South  Virginia  extended  from  Cape  Fear  to  the  Potomac,  and 
North  Virginia  from  the  mouth  of  the  Hudson  to  Newfoundland  ; 
the  intermediate  territory  was  common  ground.  See  Bancroft,  i., 
120 ;  and,  more  clearly,  Amer.  Cyclop.,  art.  "United  States." 


The  Pilgrim  Temple-Btiilders.  169 

The  contrast  in  the  character  of  the  two  peoples 
is  as  great  as  that  of  the  seasons  in  which  they  dis- 
embarked. The  Virginians  entered  the  broad 
waters  of  the  Chesapeake  unruffled  by  a  storm,  and 
floated  up  the  silver  stream  when  spring  was  wear- 
ing all  her  wreaths  to  welcome  them.  The  Pil- 
grims landed  as  shipwrecked  mariners,  in  the  depth 
of  winter,  on  the  ice-bound  coast  of  Plymouth, 
glM  to  find  a  rock  to  give  them  footing  in  the  sleet 
of  the  December  blast.  The  Virginians  were 
vagabond  gentlemen,  "  unprincipled  young  sparks," 
whom  their  parents  were  glad  to  ship  off  in  order 
to  save  them  from  a  worse  fate  at  home,  "  dis- 
charged servants,  fraudulent  bankrupts,  rakes  and 
debauchees."*  The  Pilgrims  were  men  of  good 
education  and  unblemished  reputation,  and  some  of 
them  belonged  to  the  intellectual  nobility  of  Eu- 
rope. The  Virginians  were  adventurers,  averse  to 
labor,  going  to  a  wilderness  in  which  as  yet  not  a 
single  house  was  standing,  with  forty-eight  gentle- 
men to  four  carpenters.  The  Pilgrims  were  a  band 
inured  to  difficulties,  industrious  and  frugal,  eager 
to  wield  the  axe  amid  the  peltings  of  the  storm. 
The  Virginians  came  singly,  as  the  Californian 
miner  goes  to  seek  his  fortnne,  bound  to  the 
country  by  no  domestic  ties.     The  Pilgrims  landed 


*  This  is  the  concurrent  testimony  of  all  the  historians  of  the 
colony.     See  Bancroft,  i.,  138, 
8 


i^o  Sermons. 

with  their  families,-— the  germs  of  patriotism  and 
of  virtue. 

"  There  was  woman's  earnest  eye, 
Lit  by  her  deep  love's  truth." 

The  Virginians  came  with  all  their  laws  and  in- 
stitutions shut  up  in  a  box,  by  order  of  King 
James,  with  strict  orders  not  to  open  it  till  they 
landed,  and  lo !  when  it  was  opened  not  a  single 
element  of  popular  liberty  was  to  be  found  in  it. 
The  Pilgrims  fashioned  their  own  institutions,  and 
had  provided  for  their  civil  and  religious  rights 
before  they  left  the  cabin  of  the  Mayflower,  not  in 
the  name  of  the  king,  but  in  the  name  of  God. 
The  Virginians  came  across  the  ocean  to  chase  the 
mirage  of  wealth, — the  gorgeous  dream  of  the 
Spaniard.  With  an  ignorance  unparalleled  even 
in  that  age  of  imperfect  discovery,  they  imagined 
the  existence  of  a  channel  connecting  the  waters; 
of  the  Chesapeake  with  the  South  Sea  and  its: 
boundless  realms  of  wealth.  They  actually  sent 
up  the  Chickahominy  an  expedition  bound  for  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  in  quest  of  gold.  And  when  at  last 
they  discovered  some  shining  mineral  which 
seemed  to  answer  their  expectations,  and  sent  a 
load  of  the  worthless  earth  to  England,  as  Smith 
said,  "  there  was  now  no  talk,  no  hope,  no  work  but 
dig  gold,  wash  gold,,  refine  gold,  load  g©ld." 

But,  on  the  oth©[-  hand,  the  Pilgjiiii!!;^  CSk^^-  ^ith 


The  Pilgiim  Temple-Builders,  171 

the  loftiest  purpose  recorded  in  the  annals  of  the 
race.  Inspired  with  an  undying  love  for  liberty, 
mindful  of  the  welfare  of  posterity,  and  with  souls 
conscious  of  a  sublime  destiny  under  the  favor  of 
the  great  Leader  whom  they  served,  they  sailed  to 
these  shores  impelled  by  "  a  hope  and  inward  zeal 
of  advancing  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ 
in  the  remote  parts  of  the  New  World,  yea,  though 
they  should  be  but  as  stepping-stones  unto  others 
for  performing  so  great  a  work."  This  glorious 
aspiration  brought  them  across  the  stormy  ocean, 
and  when  they  landed  on  the  snow-clad  rocks,  their 
first  act  was  to  kneel  down  and  take  possession  of 
the  continent  in  the  name  and  for  the  sake  of 
Christ. 

The  founder  of  New  Haven,  far-seeing  as  all 
these  Puritans  were,  thus  manifests  the  piety  and 
the  wisdom  of  the  first  settlers  of  New  England : 
"  They  that  are  skillful  in  architecture  observe  that 
the  breaking  or  yielding  of  a  stone  in  the  ground- 
work of  a  building,  but  the  breadth  of  the  back  of 
a  knife,  will  make  a  cleft  of  more  than  half  a  foot 
in  the  fabric  aloft,  so  important  are  fundamental 
errors.  The  Lord  awaken  us  to  look  to  it  in  time, 
and  send  us  his  light  and  truth  to  lead  us  into  the 
safest  ways  in  these  beginningsr  ^ 

Little  did  Davenport,  when  he  uttered  his  fer- 

*  Davenport.     Discourse  upon  Civil  Goverment. 


J  72  Sermons. 

vent  prayer,  imagine  that  august  temple  of  Free- 
dom which  should  be  erected  in  the  coming  ages, 
and  little  did  he  perceive  that  in  the  fundamental 
principles  of  the  two  chief  English  colonies,  North 
and  South,  there  was  even  then  a  fissure  which 
should  crack  the  temple  walls  and  cleave  the 
Union  almost  asunder,  till  a  million  patriots  should 
rush  in  to  repair  the  breach. 

This  figure  of  a  goodly  temple  built  to  God  was 
a  favorite  one  among  our  Puritan  forefathers,  and 
we  are  but  following  their  own  method  when  we 
speak  of  their  free  institutions  as  tov/ers  and  bul- 
warks. On  this  high  day  of  commemoration  ser- 
vice we  are  summoned  by  their  example,  no  less 
than  by  the  exhortation  of  the  Psalmist,  to  go 
round  about  the  Zion  which  they  builded,  to  tell 
the  towers  thereof,  to  mark  >vell  her  bulwarks,  to 
consider  h^r  palaces,  that  we  may  tell  it  to  the 
generation  following.  We  have  spoken  in  general 
of  the  character  of  the  Pilgrims.  We  wish  now  to 
note  more  specifically  the  institutions  which  they 
founded,  and  which  are  the  towers  of  all  the  great- 
ness, moral  and  material,  for  which  New  England 
is  reverenced  above  all  the  peoples  of  the  earth. 
They  are  three — the  Free  Church,  the  Free  School, 
and  the  Free  Commonwealth. 

I.    The  Pilgrims  founded  a  Free  Church  as  the 
tpwer  of  religion, 


The  Pilgrmi   Temple-Builders.  \J% 

The  Church  of  England,  from  its  very  founda^ 
tion  under  Henry  VIIL,  contained  within  it  the 
germs  of  two  parties,  one  desiring  to  keep  as 
closely  as  possible  to  the  Romish  polity  and  cere- 
monial as  was  consistent  with  a  separate  establish- 
ment ;  the  other  inclined  to  make  the  reformation 
more  thorough  by  limiting  the  prelatical  and  royal 
supremacy,  and  by  discarding,  as  *'  rags  of  supersti- 
tion" and  hindrances  to  a  pure  and  spiritual  wor- 
ship, many  of  the  rites  and  ceremonies  still  retained 
in  the  Anglican  Church.  * 

When  "  Bloody  Mary"  ascended  the  throne, 
many  of  the  churchmen  bowed  before  the  storm  of 
Papal  persecution,  and  recanted  or  compromised 
their  Protestant  principles.  But  the  Puritans  stood 
firm.  That  illustrious  ancestor  of  the  Pilgrims, 
whose  death  at  Smithfield,  with  his  "  sweet  babes" 
around  him,  was  the  first  picture  which  for  many 
generations  met  the  eyes  of  the  New  England 
schoolboy — Rogers  was  the  protomartyr.  While 
the  flames  were  raging,  many  of  those  who  were 
truly  imbued  with  the  spirit  .of  the  gospel  fled  to 
the  continent,  and  found  refuge  in  the  Protestant 
cities  of  Frankfort  and  Geneva.  Here  again  were 
soon  found  the  same  differences  of  opinion  which 

*  "The  compromise  arranged  by  Craumer  had  from  the  first 
been  considered  by  a  large  body  of  Protestants  as  a  scheme  for 
serving  two  masters,— as  an  attempt  to  unite  the  worship  of  the 
Lord  with  the  worship  of  Baal." — Macanlay,  i.,  45,  et  seq. 


i  74  Sermons. 

had  existed  in  England,  A  controversy  arose 
among  the  exiles  at  Frankfort,  between  those  who 
could  conscientiously  conform  to  the  ritual  of  the 
English  establishment  and  those  who  preferred  the 
primitive  simplicity  of  the  Reformed  Churches 
around  them.  And  here  at  Frankfort,  in  the  year 
1554,  the  more  scrupulous  and  inflexible  of  the 
reformers  were  first  called  Puritans  by  their  adver- 
saries. * 

The  Puritans  remained  as  yet  within  the  bosom 
of  the  English  Church,  and  shrank  from  any 
thought  of  separation.  But  after  the  accession  of 
Elizabeth  (1558),  who  was  in  belief  more  a  Papist 
than  a  Protestant,  and  in  temper  a  true  daughter  of 
Henry  VIII.,  the  breach  between  the  Puritans  and 
the  Establishment  was  effected  by  the  Queen  her- 
self, t  When  in  the  lower  House  of  Convocation 
the  questions  were  discussed  of  the  observance  of 
Saint's  days,  .of  the  use  of  the  cope  and  surplice,  of 

*  Bacon's  Hist.  Discourses,  p.  7  ;  Palfrey,  Hist.  New  England, 
i.,  118;  Ncal,  Hist.  Puritans,  i.,  68.  Within  ten  years  the  name 
was  in  common  use  in  England.  Hopkins  adopts  the  later  date. 
Hist.  Puritans,  i.,  232. 

t  Except  Archbishop  Parker  .  ..  and  Cox,  Bishop  of  Ely  .  .. 
all  the  most  eminent  churchmen,  such  as  Sewell,  Grindal,  Sandys, 
Newell,  were  in  favor  of  leaving  off  the  surplice  and  what  were 
called  the  Popish  ceremonies.  Whether  their  objections  are  to  be 
deemed  narrow  and  frivolous,  or  otherwise,  it  is  inconsistent  with 
veracity  to  dissemble  tkat  the  Queen  alone  was  the  cause  of  retain- 
ing those  observances  to  which  the  great  separation  from  the  Angli- 
can establishment  is  ascribed, — I/allam,  Const.  Hist.  Eng.^  i.,  188. 


The  Pilgrim   Temple-Bnilders.  175 

kneeling  at  the  communion,  of  the  sign  of  the 
cross  in  baptism,  and  matters  of  kindred  moment, 
it  appeared  that  that  body  was  almost  equally  di- 
vided, the  reformers  losing  the  day  by  only  a  single 
vote  out  of  a  hundred  and  seventeen.*  But  the 
Queen  looked  upon  the  rights  of  conscience  just  as 
she  regarded  the  enterprises  of  commercial  specu- 
lation. Of  both  she  claimed  the  monopoly,  and  all 
must  be  ordered  in  accordance  with  her  imperious 
will.  Therefore  it  was  she  issued  her  imperial 
edict  that  no  worship  should  be  tolerated  outside  of 
the  Established  Church,  and  that  all  who  did  wor- 
ship should  observe  every  jot  and  tittle  of  the  royal 


*  Neal,  i.,  89.  The  Puritans  at  this  time  composed  the  majority 
of  the  English  people.  "  I  conceive,"  says  one  of  the  most  accu- 
rate and  impartial  of  historians,  "  the  Church  of  England  parly — 
that  is,  the  parly  averse  to  any  species  of  ecclesiastical  change — to 
have  been  the  least  numerous  of  the  three  (Catholic,  Church  of  Eng- 
land, Puritan,)  during  this  reign  ;  still  excepting,  as  I  have  said,  tl  e 
neutrals  who  commonly  make  a  numerical  majority  and  are  counlcd 
along  with  the  dominant  religion.  The  Puritans,  or  at  least  those 
who  rather  favored  them,  had  a  majority  among  the  Frotestavt gen- 
try during  the  Queen's  days.  It  is  agreed  on  all  hands,  and  is  quite 
manifest,  that  they  predominated  in  the  House  of  Commons.  But 
that  House  was  composed,  as  it  has  ever  been,  of  the  principal 
landed  proprietors,  and  as  much  represented  the  general  wish  of 
the  community,  when  it  demanded  a  farther  reform  in  religious 
matters,  as  on  any  other  subjects.  One  would  imagine,  by  the 
manner  in  which  some  express  themselves,  t/iat  the  disrontented 
luere  a  small  faction,  who,  by  some  unaccountable  means,  in  despite 
of  the  government  and  the  W2i\\o\\,  formed  a  majority  of  all  Parlia- 
ments  under  Elizabeth  and  her  two  successors.'" — Uallum,  Const, 
Hist.,  i.,  257. 


I  "j^  Sermons. 

ceremonial  under  penalty  of  ruinous  fines,  im- 
prisonment, and  death.* 

Then  arose  in  the  minds  of  the  Puritans  the 
Pauline  spirit  of  independence,  and  they  said :  In 
these  matters  of  conscience  we  give  to  this  woman 
"no  place  by  subjection, — no,  not  for  an  hour." 
They  not  only  opposed  the  compulsory  imposition 
of  vain  and  superstitious  observances,  and  the  doc- 
trine of  passive  obedience  to  royal  caprice  in  mat- 
ters of  religion,  but  they  held  that  they  themselves 
were  guilty  in  the  sight  of  God  by  remaining  in 
communion  with  a  church  which  avowed  such  per- 
nicious doctrines  and  practices.  Since  the  English 
Church  could  not  be  reformed  it  must  be  abandoned. 
They  heard  the  great  voice  of  the  Apocalypse 
sounding  athwart  the  heavens,  "  Come  out  of  her, 
my  people,  that  ye  be  not  partakers  of  her  sins,  and 
that  ye  receive  not  of  her  plagues." 

These  were  the  Puritans  of  the  Puritans,  "  the 
dissidents  of  dissent,"  who  demanded  nothing  less 
than  the  entire  freedom  of  conscience,  and  a  com- 
plete separation  from  all  observances  opposed  to 
the  purity  and   simplicity  of  the  gospel  of  Christ. 

*Two  ministers  of  the  gospel  were  hanged  for  circulaling 
Brown's  tract  on  the  Liberty  of  the  Pulpit.  "  Both  the  prisoners 
died  by  their  principles  ;  for  though  Dr.  Still,  the  archbishop's 
chaplain,  and  others  travelled  (travailed)  and  conferred  with  them, 
yet  at  the  very  hour  of  their  death  they  remained  immovable  ; 
they  xvere  both  sound  in  the  doctrinal  articles  of  the  Chnrch  of  Eng- 
land, and  of  7inl>lanished  lives." — Neal,  i.,  154. 


TJie  Pilgrim   Tcvtple-Bttilders.  iff 

With  these  convictions  a  handful  of  *'  godly  Chris- 
tians" in  the  north  of  England,  in  the  village  of 
Bcrooby,  under  the  lead  of  John  kobinson  and  Wil* 
iiam  Brewster,  in  the  year  1606,*  organized  them- 
selves into  an  independent  church  after  t^ie  pattern  of 
the  Scriptures.  Being  led  by  the  light  of  God's  word 
to  see  that  the  "  beggarly  ceremonies"  were  monu- 
ments of  idolatry,  and  that  "  the  lordly  power  of  the 
prelates  ought  not  to  be  submitted  to,"  they  deter- 
mined, to  use  their  own  words,  "  to  shake  of  this 
yoake  of  anti-Christian  bondage,  and  as  ye  Lord's 
free  people  joyn  themselves  by  a  covenant  of  ye 
Lord,  into  a  church  estate,  in  ye  felowship  of  ye 
gospell,  to  walke  in  all  his  wayes,  made  known  or 
to  be  made  known  to  them  according  to  their  best 
endeavours,  zuhatsocver  it  should  c-ost  iJicmr  f 

But  this  Church  could  not  live  in  England.  By 
the  dignitaries  who  then  presided  over  the  Estab- 
lishment it  was  regarded  with  less  favor  than  a  den 
of  dicers  or  coiners,  and  it  speedily  brought  down 
upon  its  head  the  full  measure  of  brutal  vengeance 
from  the  authorities.  The  scattered  flock  fled  to 
the  seaside,  where  a  vessel  was  in  waiting  to  carry 
them  to  Holland.  But  while  the  ship  was  loading, 
when  a  portion  of  the   emigrants  were  already  on 


*  For  the  verification  of  this  date,  see  Palfrey,  i.,  134,  Note. 

t  Bradford's  Plymouth  Plantation,  quoted  by  Dexter,  Congrega- 
tionalism, p.  58. 


178  Sej'indni. 

board,  a  band  of  horsemen  made  their  appearance 
on  the  beach,  and  dragged  off  to  the  magistrates  a 
large  number  of  helpless  women  and  children.  '*  Piti- 
fulit  was/'  says  an  eye  witness,*  "to  see  the  heavy 
case  of  these  poor  women  in  distress.  What  weeping 
and  crying  on  every  side  !  "  With  great  difficulty 
and  through  much  misery  the  weeping  band  at 
last  rejoined  their  husbands  and  fathers,  and  so  at 
last  the  Pilgrim  Church  succeeded  in  finding  a 
refuge  in  the  city  of  Amsterdam.  But,  like  the 
wandering  dove,  they  found  no  place  to  rest.  From 
Amsterdam  they  removed  to  Leyden,  and  there 
for  ten  years  "their  continual  labors  with  other 
crosses  and  sorrows  left  them  in  danger  to  scatter 
or  sink." 

They  felt  that  in  a  foreign  country  there  was 
danger  of  forgetting  the  language  and  the  name  of 
their  beloved  fatherland.  They  found  themselves 
unable  to  give  their  children  an  education  such  as 
they  had  themselves  received,  and  they  were 
grieved  at  the  irreligion  of  the  Dutch,  especially 
in  the  profanation  of  the  Sabbath. f  It  might  be 
that  in  the  uninhabited  regions  of  the  New  World 

*  Bradford.     See  Palfrey,  i.,  138. 

t  Three  main  reasons  are  given  by  Winslow  (Briefe  Narration) 
for  their  leaving  Holland,  i.  "They  were  like  to  lose  their  lan- 
guage and  their  name  of  English."  2.  "How  little  good  they  did 
or  were  like  to  do  to  the  Dutch  in  reforming  the  Sabbath."  3. 
"  How  unable  there  to  give  such  education  to  their  children  as  they 
had  themselves  received." 


The  Pilgrim   Temple-Biiilders.  179 

they  could  find  a  promised  land  for  themselves  and 
their  posterity.  Accordingly,  they  broke  up  their 
associations  with  the  people,  who  loved  them  and 
esteemed  them.*  The  pastor  Robinson  who  re- 
mained behind  with  a  portion  of  the  flock  gave 
them  a  solemn  farewell  charge. f     They  feasted  at 

*  "The  magistrates  testified,  *  These  English  have  lived  amongst 
us  now  these  twelve  years,  and  yet  we  never  had  any  suit  or  accusa- 
tion come  against  any  of  them.' " — Bradford,  20.  "  The  merchants 
of  Amsterdam  presented  a  memorial  to  the  Prince  of  Orange  to 
encourage  Robinson's  company  to  emigrate  to  the  Dutch  settle- 
ments in  America." — Brodhead,  Hist.  N'cw  York,  i,,  125.  Many  of 
the  Dutch  joined  the  Pilgrim  Church.     See   IVinsloiu,  95, 

t  The  farewell  counsel  of  Robinson  breathes  such  a  noble,  and 
for  that  age  wonderful,  spirit  of  mingled  liberty  and  charity,  that  I 
cannot  refrain  from  quoting  Winslow's  Narration  at  length  : 

"  We  are  now  ere  long  to  part  asunder,  and  the  Lord  knoweth 
whether  ever  he  should  live  to  see  our  faces  again.  But  whether 
the  Lord  had  appointed  it  or  not,  he  charged  us  before  God  and  his 
blessed  angels  to  follow  him  no  farther  than  he  followed  Christ,  and 
if  God  should  reveal  anything  to  us  by  any  other  instrument  of  his, 
to  be  as  ready  to  receive  it  as  ever  we  were  to  receive  any  truth  by 
his  ministry ;  for  he  was  very  confident  the  Lord  had  more  truth 
and  light  yet  to  break  forth  out  of  his  Holy  Word.  He  tqok  occa- 
sion also  miserably  to  bewail  the  state  and  condition  of  the  Reform- 
ed Churches  who  were  come  to  a  period  in  religion,  and  would  no 
farther  go  than  the  instruments  of  their  Reformation.  As,  for  ex- 
ample, the  Lutherans  ;  they  could  not  be  drawn  to  go  beyond  what 
Luther  saw,  for  whatever  part  of  God's  will  He  had  farther  im- 
parted and  revealed  unto  Calvin,  they  will  rather  die  than  embrace 
it.  And  so  also  saith  he,  You  see  the  Calvinists  ;  they  stick  where 
he  left  them — a  misery  much  to  be  lamented — for  though  they  were 
precious  shining  lights  in  their  times,  yet  God  hath  not  revealed  his 
whole  will  unto  them,  and  were  they  now  living,  saith  he,  they 
would  be  as  ready  and  willing  to  embrace  farther  light  than  that 
they  had  received.  Here  also  he  put  us  in  mind  of  our  Church 
covenant,  at  least  that  part  of  it  whereby  we  promise  and  covenant 
with  God  and  one  another,  to  receive  whatsoever  light  or  truth 


I  So  Sermon^. 

the  pastor's  house,  then,  having  been  refreshed 
after  their  tears  by  the  singing  of  psalms,  they 
embarked  upon  the  perilous  voyage,  and  in  the  ful- 
ness of  the  time  the  Mayflower  anchored  in  the 
bay  of  Massachusetts,  and  the  Pilgrims  landed  upon 
Plymouth  Rock. 

What,  now,  was  the  nature  of  this  Pilgrim 
Church,  destined  to  exert  so  mighty  an  influence 
in  all  time  to  come  ?  Its  cardinal  principle  of 
polity  was  that  the  particular  Church  is  an  equal 
brotherhood  of  believers,  amenable  to  no  head  but 
Christ.  Our  fathers  held  that  every  such  Church 
is  independent  of  any  outward  jurisdiction  or  con- 
trol, whether  of  popes,  kings,  bishops,  or  of  any 
ecclesiastical  authority  ;  that  it  is  competent  to 
constitute  and  maintain  its  own  organization,  to 
elect  its  own  pastor  and  other  officers,  to  execute 
its  own  disciphne,  to  determine  its  own  mode  of 
worship,  to  direct  its  own  internal  affairs,  and  that, 
for  the  proper  discharge  of  these  Christian  func- 
tions, it  is  responsible  to  Christ  alone.* 

shall  be  made  known  to  us  from  his  written  word  ;  but  withal  ex- 
horted us  to  take  heed  what  we  received  for  truth,  and  well  to  ex- 
amine and  compare  it,  and  weigh  it  with  other  Scriptures  of  truth 
before  we  received  it.  For,  saith  he,  it  is  not  possible  the  Christian 
world  should  come  so  lately  out  of  such  antichristian  darkness,  and 
that  full  perfection  of  knowledge  should  break  forth  at  once." 

*  See  a  full  array  of  authorities  in  that  invaluable  book,  Dexter's 
Congregationalism,  p.  43,  note.  See,  also,  the  resume  of  Brad- 
shaw's  Puritanism,  in  Neal.,  i,,  248. 


TJie  Pilgrim   Temple-BjiilderS.  iSl 

When  the  Pilgrims  sent  their  messengers  from 
Ley  den  to  London,  in  the  vain  hope  of  obtaining 
a  charter  for  their  colony,  the  councilors  asked, 
"  Who  shall  be  your  minister  ?"  To  the  great 
astonishment  of  the  council,  the  envoys  answered, 
"  The  power  of  making  them  is  in  the  Church." 
This  is  the  language  of  Robinson  :  "  The  Lord 
Jesus  is  the  king  of  His  Church  alone,  upon  whose 
shoulders  the  government  is,  and  unto  whom  all 
power  is  given  in  heaven  and  earth."  And  Higgin- 
son  of  Salem,  a  town  partly  colonized  from  Ply- 
mouth, declares,  "  This  was  our  cause  in  coming 
here,  that  Christ  alone  might  be  acknowledged  by  us 
as  the  only  Head,  Lord,  and  Lawgiver." 

Were  this  the  place  for  such  an  argument,  it 
might  be  clearly  shown  that  this  free  constitution 
of  the  Church  is  in  strict  conformity  with  the  teach- 
ing of  the  Scriptures,  which  our  fathers  took  for 
their  infallible  guide.  But  omitting  these  consider- 
ations, we  proceed  to  ask,  What  were  the  fruits  of 
this  Pilgrim  Church,  and  what  its  influence  upon 
the  spiritual  destiny  of  New  England  1  More  es- 
pecially. How  did  it  fulfill  the  proper  functions  of  a 
Church  of  Christ  in  defending  the  truth,  in  pro- 
moting piety,  and  in  bringing  men  to  the  reception 
of  the  Gospel  as  it  is  in  Jesus  } 

Two  centuries  and  a  half  have  rolled  away,  and 
the  muse  of  history  stands  ready  with  her  answer. 


1  ^2  Sermom. 

Nowhere  in  all  the  world — not  even  among  the 
children  of  the  covenanters,  in  the  green  vales  of 
Scotland — are  the  inhabitants  characterized  by  such 
sobriety,  frugality,  industry,  and  purity.  Nowhere 
is  God's  word  so  read  and  honored.  Nowhere, 
when  that  Sabbath  comes  on  which  the  Pilgrims 
rested,  does  the  church-bell,  with  its  sweet  evangel, 
call  forth  so  many  worshippers  to  the  temples  of  the 
Lord.  Nowhere  since  the  Pentecost  have  been  ex- 
perienced with  greater  power  those  gracious  visi- 
tations of  the  Spirit,  whose  memorable  type  is  the 
"  Great  Awakening  "  described  by  the  pen  of  Ed- 
wards. Nowhere  is  so  large  a  proportion  of  the 
entire  population  gathered  into  the  Churches  of 
Christ. 

And  if  we  proceed  to  ask,  What  have  these 
Churches  done  beyond  themselves  for  the  welfare 
of  mankind,  we  are  still  ready  with  the  answer. 
New  England  has  been  foremost  in  the  inauguration 
of  those  great  benevolent  and  religious  institutions 
which  now  girdle  the  world  with  their  benignant 
charities.  Do  you  honor  that  noble  Society  which 
aims  to  send  the  Bible,  without  note  or  comment, 
to  every  family  in  the  land,  and  which,  after  trans- 
lating the  word  of  God  into  unnumbered  languages, 
is  now  sending  it  from  the  presses  of  America  to 
the  hundred  millions  who  speak  the  Arabic  }  Re- 
member that   before  the  existence  of  the  metro- 


The  Pilgrim  Temple-Btdlders.  183 

* 

politan  institution,  a  Bible  Society  had  been  already 
formed  in  Massachusetts  and  another  in  Connecticut.* 

Do  you  look  with  favor  upon  that  Home  Mis- 
sionary. Society  which  has  planted  the  gospel  in 
almost  every  county  of  the  boundless  West  ?  That, 
too,  was  organized  by  the  New  England  Churches ; 
and  the  General  Court  of  Massachusetts,  two  cen- 
turies earlier,  was  the  first  Missionary  Society  in 
the  annals  of  Protestant  Christendom.! 

Are  you  interested  in  the  work  of  Sabbath 
Schools  ?  In  178 1,  the  same  year  in  which  Robert 
Raikes  began  his  apostolic  work  in  England,  the 
children  were  gathered  for  religious  instruction  on 
Sunday  noons,  under  the  branching  elms  in  the 
village  of  Washington,  Connecticut.^       But  a  hun- 

*  Amer.  Cyclop,  art.,  "Bible  Societies."  The  American  Bible 
Society  was  formed  in  1816,  through  the  instrumentality  of  Hon. 
Elias  Boudinot  of  New  Jersey.  The  Massachusetts  Society  was 
formed  in  1809.  Under  the  auspices  of  Eliot,  the  famous  Indian 
Bible,  the  first  Bible  printed  in  America,  was  issued  at  Cambridge 
in  1663,  having  been  three  years  in  press. 

t  The  Home  Missionary  Society  formed  in  1826  was  in  reality 
only  a  consolidation  of  the  New  England  Auxiliaries.  **  In  thirty 
years  from  the  arrival  of  the  Pilgrims,  five  Churches  had  expanded 
into  more  than  forty,  and  were  actually  supporting  fifty-five  minis- 
ters." "  Home  Missions  were  pushed  with  such  vigor,  that  cases 
are  related  of  the  erection  of  meeting-houses  'where  the  entire 
population  of  the  place  could  sit  together  on  the  sills  at  the  rais- 
ing.' " — Rev.  H.  B.  Hooker^  in  Report  Hoine  Missionary  Society^  1864. 

"The  General  Court  of  Massachusetts  was  thus  (1646)  the  first 
Missionary  Societv  in  the  History  of  Protestant  Christendom." — 
Palfrey^  ii.,  189. 

X  Rev.  Dr.  Hawes,  in  Contrib.  to  Eccles.  Hist,  of  Conn.,  p.  191. 


i  84  SermonL 

dred  years  befofe  Raikes  was  born,  the  Sabbath 
School  was  in  successful  operation  in  the  Pilgrim 
Church  at  Plymouth.* 

Do  you  regard  the  Temperance  Reformation  as 
intimately  connected  with  the  interests  of  religion  ? 
Massachusetts  and  Connecticut  are  rivals  for  the 
honor  of  its  birth. f 

Have  you  ever  thought  with  wonder  on  that 
American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  P'oreign 
Missions,  which  has  dotted  every  continent  with 
Christian  institutions,  which  has  elevated  savage 
tribes  from  the  lowest  depths  of  pagan  barbarism 
to  the  dignity  of  Christian  nations,  and  which, 
making  the  coral  islands  of  the  Pacific  its  stepping- 
stones,  has  gone  forth  to  the  spiritual  conquest  of 
the  habitable  globe  ?  It  was  originated  in  the 
study  of  a  descendant  of  the  Pilgrims,  not  far  from 
the  rock  on  which  they  landed  as  a  mission  Church.J 

*  As  early  as  1680  the  Plymouth  Church  passed  a  vote  in  these 
words  :  ''  That  the  deacons  be  requested  to  assist  the  minister  in 
teaching  the  children  during  the  intermission  on  the  Sabbath  " 
Rev.  T.  Robbins,  D.  D.,  in  his  address  at  Williams  College,  says 
that  he  has  seen  an  authentic  account  of  a  Sunday  School  at  Ply- 
mouth, in  1669. — Cong.  Qitar.,  Jan.,  1865,  p.  21. 

t  "Both  Massachusetts  and  Connecticut  may  well  conter.d  for  pre- 
cedence in  the  Temperance  movement." — Dr.  J.  Marsh, 

Dr.  Porter's  famous  sermon  on  "The  Fatal  Effects  of  Ardent 
Spirits,"  which  gave  the  first  impulse  to  the  Tcmpcrarce  move- 
ment in  Connecticut,  was  preached  in  the  winter  of  1806.  The 
Massachusetts  Society  for  the  Suppression  of  Intemperance  was 
organized  in  1813. 

I  At  Andover,  1S09.     The  Board  received  its  organization  from 


The  Pilgrim  Tentple-Btiildets.  185 

Thus,  then,  that  ancestral  Church  in  the  wilder- 
ness, containing  within  it  such  wondrous  germs  of 
power,  is  invested  for  us  with  a  mysterious  and 
transcendent  glory.  It  needs  no  warrant  from  a  per- 
secuting bishop  to  constitute  it  more  a  Church  of 
Christ  than  what  it  is.  Those  heroic  saints  cele- 
brating their  first  Sabbath  in  the  New  England 
snows,  are  truer  successors  of  the  apostles  than  any 
created  by  the  imposition  of  an  earthly  hand. 
Their  strain  of  worship,  ringing  amid  the  pines, 
shaJl  never  cease  to  vibrate  through  the  heavens 
till  it  melt  away  in  the  blast  of  the  resurrection. 
And  that  rude  sanctuary,  hewn  of  logs,  on  whose 
top  the  three  cannon  were  planted  at  the  Indians, 
is  a  grander  and  more  sacred  temple  than  any 
minster  or  cathedral  with  its  broad  aisles  and  sump- 
tuous altars,  its  lofty  arches  resounding  with  the 
organ's  diapason,  and  its  storied  windows,  where 
the  forms  of  saints  and  angels  keep  solemn  ward 
over  the  dust  of  kings  who  sleep  below. 

II.  No  sooner  had  the  Pilgrims  constituted  their 
Church  and  built  its  house  of  worship,  than  they 
founded  the  Free  School,  to  be  the  tower  of 
education. 

A  governor  of  Virginia  is  recorded  to  hav^e  uttered 
his  thanksgiving  to  God  that  in  that  commonwealth 

the  General  Association  of  the  Congregational  Churches  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, at  Bradford,  29th  June,  1810. 


1 86  Sermons. 

there  were  no  printing  presses  nor  free  schools.* 
John  Eliot,  the  apostle  to  the  Indians,  in  a  prayer 
before  the  General  Court  of  Massachusetts,  in  1645, 
thus  reversed  the  desire  of  Berkeley  :  "  Lord !  for 
schools  everywhere  among  us !  That  our  schools 
may  flourish.  That  every  member  of  this  assem- 
bly may  go  home  and  procure  a  good  school  to  be 
encouraged  in  the  town  where  he  lives.  That  be- 
fore we  die  we  may  be  so  happy  as  to  see  a 
good  school  in  every  plantation  in  the  country."! 
The  spirit  of  the  prayer  of  Eliot  was  early  framed 
into  appropriate  legislation.  "  In  nothing,"  says 
De  Tocqueville,  "  is  the  original  character  of 
American  civilization  shown  more  clearly  than  in 
the  mandates  relating  to  education.":]:  One  of  the 
earliest  of  these  laws  contained  the  following 
provision:  "To  the  end  that  all  learning  may 
not  be  buried  in  the  graves  of  our  forefathers, 
ordered  that  every  township,  after  the  Lord  hath 
in/creased  them  to  fifty  householders,  shall  ap- 
point one    to  teach  all  the  children  to  read  and 

*  Sir  Wm.  Berkeley,  in  1670,  in  reply  to  the  inquiries  addressed 
to  him  by  the  Lords  of  Plantations,  says,  "  I  thank  God  there  are 
no  frej  schools  nor  printing,  and  I  hope  we  shall  not  have  them 
these  hundred  years,  for  learning  has  brought  disobedience,  and 
heresy,  and  sects  into  the  world,  and  printing  has  divulged  them, 
and  libels  against  the  best  government.  God  keep  us  from  both." 
— Henning's  Laws  of  Virginia^  Appendix. 

t  Morris.     Christian  Life,  &c.,  of  the  United  States,  p.  73. 

X  Democracy  in  America,  i.,  51. 


The  Pilgrim  Temple- Btcilders,  187 

Write,  and  where  any  town  shall  increase  to  the 
number  of  one  hundred  families,  they  shall  set  up  a 
grammar  school,  the  master  thereof  being  able  to 
instruct  youth  so  far  as  they  may  be  fitted  for  the 
university."*  Another  ordinance  provided  that  in 
every  town  the  selectmen  should  use  all  vigilance 
to  insure  that  every  householder  teach,  by  himself  or 
others,  their  children  and  apprentices  so  much  learn- 
ing as  should  enable  them  to  read  the  English  tongue 
and  obtain  a  knowledge  of  the  laws.f  If,  for  any 
reason,  the  parent  neglected  to  instruct  his  off- 
spring, he  was  subjected  to  a  fine,  and  the  children 
were  educated  under  the  direction  of  the  town 
authorities-^  "  In  these  measures,"  says  Bancroft, 
"especially  in  the  laws  establishing  common  schools, 
lies  the  secret  of  the  success  and  character  of  New 
England.  Every  child,  as  it  was  born  into  the  world, 
was  lifted  from  the  earth  by  the  genius  of  the  country, 
and  in  the  statutes  of  the  land  received  as  its  birth- 
right a  pledge  of  the  public  care  for  its  morals  and 
its  mind."§ 

Six  years  only  after  the  first  settlement  in  Mas- 
sachusetts Bay  the  colonists  laid  in  Cambridge  the 
foundation  of  a  college.     The  manner  in  which  it 

*  Colonial  Laws,  1647.     Bancroft,  i.,  458. 
t  Palfrey  i ,  46. 
\  Code  of  1650. 
§  Bancroft,  i.,  459. 


I  SB  Sermons. 

was  begun  is  as  striking  as  anything  in  the  ann:5ls 
of  education. 

"  The  magistrates  led  the  way  by  a  subscription 
among  themselves  of  two  hundred  pounds  for  the 
library.  The  comparatively  wealthy  followed  with 
gifts  of  twenty  and  thirty  pounds.  The  needy 
multitude  succeeded,  like  the  widow  of  old  casting 
their  mites  in  the  treasury.  A  number  of  sheep 
was  bequeathed  by  one  man  ;  a  quantity  of  cotton 
cloth,  worth  nine  shillings,  was  presented  by  an- 
other ;  a  pewter  flagon,  worth  ten  shillings,  by  a 
third  ;  a  fruit  dish,  a  sugar-spoon,  a  silver-tipt  jug, 
one  great  set  and  one  smaller  trencher  set,  by 
others."* 

This  was  the  beginning.  In  the  wilderness,  be- 
fore even  their  own  houses  were  ceiled  and  plas- 
tered, these  New  Englanders  provided  schools  and 
libraries  and  academies  and  colleges,  in  order  that 
the  great  ends  of  a  free  Christian  commonwealth 
might  not  be  frustrated  through  the  ignorance  of 
the  people. 

Take  then  your  journey  through  that  wilderness 
now  blooming  as  the  rose,  and  witness  the  fruition 
of  the  toil  of  the  fathers.  The  whole  land  is  laid 
out  in  educational  districts,  and  in  every  district,  at 
a  convenient  center,  stands,  with  its  white  trimming, 
the  neat  red  school-house,  humming  with  the  pres- 

*  Morris,  Christian  Life,  &c.,  of  the  United  States,  p.  74. 


The  Pilgrim  Temple-Builders.  1 89 

ence  of  all  the  children  in  the  community.  In  the 
village,  rises  by  the  green  the  free  academy,  with 
its  superior  instruction,  its  librar}^  and  its  modest 
scientific  apparatus.  At  Easthampton,  at  Exeter, 
at  Andover,  and  a  score  of  other  towns,  the  poor- 
est boy  may  obtain  the  preparation  for  the  uni- 
versity, which  in  other  lands  is  attainable  only  by 
the  sons  of  the  wealthy  and  the  noble.  And  that 
College  at  Cambridge,  which  began  with  flagons 
and  trenchers  in  the  woods,  no  larger  than  a  dis- 
trict school,  to-day  sends  forth  its  ambassadors  of 
science  to  a  distant  empire*  holding  the  majestic 
Amazon  in  its  bosom,  to  be  we^omed  by  the  sov- 
ereign as  royal  guests,  and  sped  on  their  way  in 
ships  of  war  and  state,  to  record  the  wondrous  his- 
tory of  creation  in  the  circling  ages  ere  man  him- 
self was  born. 

Or  if  you  will  have  the  result  of  the  wisdom  of 
the  fathers  in  more  tangible  statistics,  the  propor- 
tion of  white  adults  over  twenty  years  of  age,  un- 
able to  read  and  write,  is,  in  the  commonwealth  of 
Berkeley,  one  to  every  twelve ;  in  New  Jersey  it  is 
one  to  every  fifty -eight ;  in  Massachusetts  it  is  one 
to  every  one  hundred  and  sixty-six.  In  States  less 
subject  to  the  influx  of  foreign  ignorance,  the  cen- 
sus is  still  more  favorable.  In  Vermont  the  pro- 
portion is  one  to  every  four  hundred  and  seven  ty- 

*  The  recent  expedition  of  Prof.  Agassiz  to  Brazil. 


190  Sermons. 

three ;  and  in  Connecticut,  one  to  every  five  hun- 
dred and  sixty-eight  !* 

One  of  the  favored  sons  of  New  England,  having 
wandered  back  to  the  land  of  his  ancestors,  and 
having,  first  of  all  Americans,  been  presented  with 
the  freedom  of  the  city  of  London,  remembered  his 
native  town  and  the  little  school-house  in  which  he 
laid  the  foundation  of  all  his  fortune.  He  sent  the 
old  town  of  Danvers  twenty-five  thousand  dollars 
to  establish  a  library,  and  then  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars  to  build  a  literary  institute ;  and  when  his 
munificent  donations  were  converted  into  these  fair 
temples  of  learning,  and  Mr.  Peabody  himself  came 
to  attend  the  celebration,  the  people  stretched 
across  the  street  a  banner  bearing  this  sentiment 
of  the  illustrious  donor:  ''Education,  the  debt  ivhich 
the  present  owes  the  fiittire!' 

That  royal  benefactor  learned  his  lesson  of  the 

*  Census  of  1850.  If  I  have  said  no  more  of  Connecticut  and 
other  New  England  States,  it  is  not  because  they  do  not  deserve  it, 
but  because  of  the  limits  of  the  occasion.  In  its  magnificent  pro- 
vision for  popular  education,  Connecticut  has  long  led  the  world. 
One  of  its  "  Blue  Laws  "  provided  that,  "  The  Selectmen,  on  finding 
children  ignorant,  may  take  them  away  from  their  parents  and  put 
them  into  better  hands,  at  the  expense  of  their  parents."  And 
Yale  College  (chartered  1701),  which,  of  all  the  seats  of  learning  in 
the  land,  has  done  most  "  Christo  et  ecdesia,''^  would  have  been 
founded  half  a  century  earlier  but  for  fear  of  weakening  the  sister 
institution  in  Massachusetts  Bay.  Within  nine  years  from  the  land- 
ing of  Davenport  the  lot  was  reserved  for  the  future  college.  The 
zeal  for  learning  among  the  New  Haven  colonists  was  excelled  only 
by  their  magnanimity. 


The  Pilgrim  Temple-Bttildets.  191 

Pilgrims.  All  the  way  from  Plymouth  Rock  to  the 
last  school-house  fashioned  by  New  England  emi- 
grants towards  the  setting  sun,  extends  the  glori- 
ous legend,  *'  Education,  the  debt  which  the 
PRESENT  OWES  THE  FUTURE."  Our  fathers  acknow- 
ledged the  mighty  debt,  and  because  they  paid 
it,  and  paid  it  so  completely,  New  England  sits 
enthroned  and  mighty  on  her  native  hills ;  her 
granite  rocks  transformed  to  fruitful  gardens  ;  her 
rivers,  whirling  their  million  spindles,  changed  to 
streams  of  gold  ;  her  white-winged  ships  darting 
straight  as  ocean  birds  to  every  haven,  through 
every  clime ;  her  proclamations  to  thanksgiving 
ringing  from  ten  thousand  Sabbath-bells  ;  her  in- 
violate love  of  freedom  sanctified  by  reverence 
for  law ;  the  eternal  monument  of  the  wisdom  and 
sacrifice,  the  faith  and  the  hope  of  the  Pilgrims, 
justifying  to  all  the  challenge  of  her  greatest  orator 
in  vindication  of  her  first-born  State,  "There  is 
New  England.  There  is  her  history  ;  the  world 
knows  it  by  heart." 

III.  We  are  to  speak  now  of  the  third  great  in- 
stitution which  our  fathers  founded — The  Free 
Commonwealth,  to  be  the  tower  of  Law. 

Many  of  you  have  seen  the  picture  hanging  in 
the  parlor  connected  with  this  place  of  worship, 
called  the  "  Signing  of  the  Compact."  It  is  of  no 
more  than  ordinary  merit  as  a  work  of  art ;  and  yet 


192  Sermons. 

how  surpassingly  grand  are  the  associations  which 
it  awakens.  By  the  light  descending  through  the 
hatchway  of  the  Mayflower  we  discover  the  fea- 
tures of  the  founders  of  the  nation.  There,  pen  in 
hand,  is  the  wise  and  saintly  Bradford,  who  in  ad- 
vancing age  studied  most  of  all  the  Hebrew,  "be- 
cause he  would  see  with  his  own  eyes  the  oracles  of 
God  in  their  native  beauty."  There  is  the  generous 
Winslow,  the  future  historian  of  the  colony,  and 
Carver,  soon  to  be  its  governor,  and,  alas,  too  scon 
its  martyr.  There  is  Miles  Standish,  the  Great-heart 
of  the  Pilgrimage,  clad  in  armor  and  leaning  on  his 
sword.  There,  too,  is  Brewster,  "  seasoned  with  the 
seeds  of  grace  and  virtue,"  stretching  forth  his  hand 
to  heaven.  Every  thought  of  that  goodly  company 
is  obviously  intent  upon  the  document  which  lies 
spread  out  upon  the  table.  It  is  the  constitution  of 
a  free  and  Christian  commonwealth,  and  is  in  these 
memorable  words : 

•'  In  the  name  of  God,  Amen.  We,  whose  names 
are  underwritten,  the  loyal  subjects  of  our  dread 
sovereign  King  James,  having  undertaken  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  advancement  of  the  Christian  faith 
and  honor  of  our  king  and  country  a  voyage  to 
plant  the  first  colony  in  the  northern  parts  of  Vir- 
ginia, do  by  these  presents  solemnly  and  mutually, 
in  the  presence  of  God  and  one  of  another,  cove- 
nant and  combine  ourselves  together  into  a  civil 


The  Pilgrim   Temple-Builders.  193 

body  politic,  for  our  better  ordering  and  preserva- 
tion and  furtherance  of  the  ends  aforesaid,  and  by 
virtue  hereof,  to  enact,  constitute,  and  frame  such 
just  and  equal  laws,  ordinances,  acts,  constitutions 
and  offices,  from  time  to  time,  as  shall  be  thought 
most  convenient  for  the  general  good  of  the  colony. 
Unto  which  we  promise  all  due  submission  and 
obedience."  * 

Here,  then,  in  the  cabin  of  the  Mayflower,  we  see 
distinctly  recognized,  for  the  first  time  in  the  pro- 
gress of  liberty,  the  fundamental  principle  of  the 
right  of  the  people  to  self-government.  Henceforth 
the  light  breaks  in  upon  the  dark  ages  of  humanity. 
Not  in  royal  charters,  nor  in  the  enactments  of  a 
proud  and  privileged  aristocracy,  but  in  man  as 
man — in  every  man  created  in  the  image  of  God — 
inheres  the  right  to  provide  for  his  own  liberties  as 
a  citizen  and  his  own  un trammeled  worship  as  a 
member  of  the  body  of  Christ.  Here  in  this  im- 
mortal instrument  is  the  record  of  a  consecration 
and  a  coronation,  by  which  all  mankind  are  exalted 
to  be  kings  and  priests  unto  God  ;  here  is  the  pri- 
mordial germ  of  that  victorious  empire  which  now 
spans  the  continent  after  our  last  solemn  struggle 
for  free  institutions,  as  the  rainbow  smiles  upon  the 
retreating  storm. f 

*  Bancroft,  i.,  309. 

t**As  the  Pilgrims  landed,  their  institutions  were  already  per* 

9 


194  Sermons. 

Under  this  self-made  charter  the  Pilgrims  elected 
their  governor  and  all  necessary  officers  of  justice  ; 
enacted  all  laws  and  executed  them  ;  and  did,  in 
general,  all  that  pertains  to  the  welfare  of  a  free 
and  independent  commonwealth.  Similar  constitu- 
tions were  framed  by  the  settlers  in  Massachusetts 
Bay  and  in  the  other  New  England  colonies. 

It  has  not  escaped  the  notice  of  the  clearest  for- 
eign writer  upon  "  Democracy  in  America,"  that 
the  New  England  township  is  the  unit  from  which 
all  our  national  institutions  have  been  multiplied. 
*'  The  independence  of  the  township,"  says  De- 
Tocqueville,  "  was  the  nucleus  round  which  the  local 
interests,  passions,  rights,  and  duties  collected  and 
clung.  It  gave  scope  to  the  activity  of  a  real  po- 
litical life,  thoroughly  democratic  and  republican. 
The  colonies  still  recognized  the  supremacy  of  the 
mother  country.  Monarchy  was  still  the  law  of  the 
State,  but  the  republic  was  already  established  in 
every  township."  *  When,  in  a  subsequent  genera- 
tion, the  elder  Adams  was  meditating  upon  the 
proper  mechanism  of  a  federal  union,  which  should 
bind  together  the  thirteen  colonies  in  harmony  and 
liberty  for  the  common  good,  he  found  the  New 
England  township  ready  as  the  model  of  the  State, 

fected.     Democratic  liberty  and  independent  Christian  worship  at 
once  existed  in  America." — Bancroft,  i.,  313. 

*  De  Tocqueville,  i.,  50. 


The  Pilgrim   Temple-Builders.  195 

which,  while  independent  in  its  own  affairs,  should 
be  subordinate  to  the  general  government  in  all 
those  central  powers  and  functions  which  belong  to 
our  existence  as  a  nation  ;  and  the  town  meeting 
itself,  in  which  every  citizen  of  every  rank  directly 
participates  in  the  responsibilities  of  government — 
electing  municipal  officers,  and  enacting  municipal 
laws — has  been  the  normal  school  in  which  millions 
of  the  teachers  of  our  freedom  have  themselves 
been  taught. 

Two  principles  are  especially  conspicuous  in  these 
institutions  of  the  Pilgrims  :  one,  their  true  estimate 
of  the  dignity  of  man  ;  the  other,  their  reverence 
for  law.  They  had  learned  in  the  Word  of  God 
that  all  men  were  created  of  one  blood,  to  dwell 
upon  the  face  of  the  whole  earth.  As  God  was  the 
father  of  all,  so  Christ  was  the  Saviour  of  all,  with- 
out respect  to  rank  or  race.  Heretofore  there  had 
been  rights  for  rulers,  rights  for  priests,  rights  for 
nobles,  rights  for  favored  guilds  and  corporations, 
rights  for  men, — but  no  rights  of  man.  The  nations 
had  heretofore  been  constructed  on  the  model  of 
Nebuchadnezzar's  image, — the  head  was  of  gold, 
the  breast  and  arms  of  silver,  the  thighs  of  brass, 
the  legs  of  iron,  and  the  feet  of  clay.  The  Puritan 
iconoclast  smote  down  the  image  with  the  stone  of 
justice,  and  in  its  stead  set  up  a  living  man.  A 
signal  illustration  of  this  truly  Christian  estimate  of 


196  Sermons. 

humanity  is  afforded  in  the  shrewd  answer  of 
Cotton  to  several  well-disposed  English  lords,  who 
made  some  overtures  for  emigration  on  condition 
that  their  hereditary  rank  should  be  recognized  by 
the  laws  :  "  Where  God  blesseth  any  branch  of  any 
noble  or  generous  family  with  a  spirit  and  gifts  fit 
for  government,  it  would  be  a  taking  of  God's  name 
in  vain  to  put  such  a  talent  under  a  bushel,  and  a 
sin  against  the  honor  of  magistracy  to  neglect  such 
in  our  public  elections.  But  if  God  should  not  de- 
light to  furnish  some  of  their  posterity  with  gifts  fit 
for  magistracy,  we  should  expose  them  rather  to 
prejudice  and  reproach,  and  the  commonwealth  with 
them,  than  exalt  them  to  honor,  if  we  should  call 
them  forth  whom  God  doth  not  to  public  authority."  * 
And  so  it  was  that  we  never  had  any  English  lords 
in  America,  but  instead  of  them  New  England 
men. 

In  accordance  with  this  view  of  the  intrinsic  no- 
bility of  man  was  their  judgment  concerning  human 
slavery.  In  the  fundamental  code  of  the  colony, 
adopted  in  December,  1641,  we  find  this  memorable 
declaration  :  *'  There  never  shall  be  any  bond-slavery, 
villanage,  or  captivity  among  us,  unless  it  be  lawful 
captives  in  just  wars,  and  such  strangers  as  will- 
ingly  sell  themselves,  orar»-«old  unto  us,  and  these 
shall  have  all  the  liberties    and  Christian  usages 


Palfrey,  i.,  39O. 


The  Pilgrim   Temple-Builders.  197 

which  the  law  of  God  established  in  Israel  concern- 
ing such  persons  doth  morally  require."  *  In  other 
words,  according  to  the  awful  meaning  which  we 
have  learned  to  attach  to  the  term,  there  could  be 
no  slavery  at  all.  The  service  of  a  negro  "  stranger" 
was  based  upon  a  contract  for  a  term  of  years,  to 
which  the  servant  was  a  consenting  party.  He  was 
in  possession  of  the  same  immunities  as  the  white 
apprentice  who  was  indentured  for  his  passage 
money.  At  the  expiration  of  his  apprenticeship, 
the  servant  was  not  to  be  sent  away  empty.  When 
thus  enfranchised  the  negro  enjoyed  all  the  rights 
of  citizenship.  He  was  called  upon  to  bear  arms 
in  the  militia,  was  an  equal  witness  in  courts  of  jus- 
tice, could  inherit,  hold,  and  devise  property,  and, 
if  a  member  of  the  Church,  might  even  exercise 
the  right  of  suffrage,  from  which  his  former  master, 
if  a  non-communicant,  would  be  debarred.  What- 
ever may  have  been  the  violations  of  the  law,  no 
person  was  ever  born  into  legal  slavery  in  any  of 
the  New  England  States,  f 

When,  a  little  later,  two  Massachusetts  men,  one 
of  them  a  member  of  the  Church  in  Boston,    at- 

*  Bancroft,  i.,  418. 

t  For  a  summary  of  proof  see  Palfrey,  ii.,  30.  The  Connecticut 
law  was  copied  from  the  Massachusetts  Body  of  Liberties.  The 
New  llaven  Code  was  similar,  being  based  upon  the  Scriptures. 
Rhode  Island  had  an  express  starue  "  that  no  black  mankind  or 
white"  should  be  forced,  "  by  covenant,  bond,  or  otherwise,  to  serve 
any  man  o;  his  assigns  longer  than  ten  years." 


198  Sermons. 

tempted  to  engage  in  that  odious  traffic  in  mankind 
which  the  southern  colonists  found  so  profitable,  the 
criminals  were  arrested,  as  soon  as  they  landed,  as 
offenders  against  the  law  of  God  and  the  law  of  the 
country,  and,  "  after  advice  with  the  elders,  the 
representatives  of  the  people,  bearing  witness 
against  the  heinous  crime  of  man-stealing,  ordered 
the  negroes  to  be  restored,  at  the  public  charge,  to 
their  native  country,  with  a  letter  expressing  the 
indignation  of  the  General  Court  at  their  wrongs."  * 
Even  in  that  benighted  age,  when  oppression  in  its 
varied  forms  was  all  but  universal,  when  great  cities 
and  kings  were  rivals  in  the  slave-trade,  and  when 
even  so  good  a  man  as  William  Penn  lived  and  died 
a  slaveholder,  one  voice  was  heard  a  full  century 
before  the  time,  "  the  voice  as  of  one  crying  in 
the  wilderness,"  preparing  the  way  in  those  mighty 
revolutions  of  opinion  which  have  culminated  in 
the  destruction  of  the  slave-trade,  in  the  proclama- 
tion of  emancipation,  and  now  in  that  Constitutional 
Amendment,  which  sums  up  four  gigantic  years  of 
sacrifice  in  our  golden  line  of  law,  whose  sound  has 
gone  forth  into  all  the  world.  It  is  the  voice  of 
New  England.  And  any  New  Englander  who, 
living  in  these  "  foremost  files  of  time,"  nevertheless 
loves  oppression,  who  defends  that  organic  and  or- 
ganific  sin  which  dishonors  God  by  dehumanizing 

*  Bancroft,  i.,  174. 


The  Pilgrim  Temple-Builders.  199 

man,  or  who  denies  to  any  of  the  enfranchised  race 
the  essential  prerogatives  of  manhood,  is  recreant 
to  his  birthright  and  shames  the  memory  of  his 
fathers.     All   that  is  good  of  him  is   underground. 

The  other  great  element  of  the  Puritan  freedom 
was  reverence  for  law.  The  first  settlers  of  New 
England  came  not  hither  to  evade  authority, 
for  the  liberty  of  doing  what  was  good  in  each 
man's  eyes.  They  looked  upon  society  as  of  divine 
establishment,  and  upon  law  as  the  divine  mandate. 
Nowhere  was  there  a  more  law-abiding  community. 
Nowhere  was  the  sword  of  justice  so  much  a  terror 
to  evil  doers.  Governor  Winthrop,  amid  the  ac- 
clamations of  his  electors,  declared,  with  fine 
discrimination,  "  Liberty  is  the  proper  end  and 
object  of  authority,  and  cannot  exist  without  it, 
and  it  is  a  liberty  only  to  that  ivhich  is  just  and 
good  and  honest.  This  Liberty  you  are  to  stand 
for,  with  the  hazard  not  only  of  your  goods,  but  of 
your  lives  if  need  be.  Whatsoever  crosseth  this 
is  not  authority,  but  a  distemper  thereof"* 

The  Liberty  which  Winthrop  praises  is  the 
Liberty  which  is  consistent  with  the  general  wel- 
fare of  mankind — the  Liberty  which  is  regulated 
by  righteous  laws  and  institutions — the  Liberty 
for  which  his  descendant  in  the  seventh  generation, 
Theodore  Winthrop,  obediently  stood,  "  with  the 

♦Bancroft,  i.,  436. 


200  Set  nions. 

hazard  not  only  of  his  goods,  but  of  his  life,"  and 
fell  upon  the  Virginian  battle-field.  That  other 
liberty,  which  he  condemns  as  crossing  this,  is  that 
lawless  violence  which  despised  the  constitution, 
and  strove  to  destroy  the  noblest  heritage  of  man 
to  gratify  the  impulse  of  a  mad  ambition.  He  is 
warning  us  against  the  distemper  of  secession  and 
the- guilt  of  treason  to  humanity. 

These  principles  and  these  institutions  New 
England,  intrenched  within  her  tower  of  law,  has 
always  been  quick  and  strong  to  guard.  Liberty 
was  more  than  a  principle  ;  it  was  a  passion.  Any 
sacrifice  of  wealth  or  comfort,  or  of  dearest  earthly 
lies,  might  be  made  without  a  murmur  ;  but  if  one 
iota  of  her  liberty  were  endangered,  she  drew  her 
sword  and  stood  defiant.  When  her  prosperity  as 
a  {x<i<t  colony  had  excited  the  jealousy  and  wrath  of 
Charles  T.  and  a  commission  was  appointed  in  1634 
to  regulate  her  politics  and  establish  laws  for  the 
government  of  Church  and  State,  her  spirit  was 
thoroughly  aroused.  It  was  rumored  that  a  royal 
governor  was  on  the  way.  Then,  poor  as  were  the 
infant  settlements,  they  raised  six  hundred  pounds 
to  fortify  the  harbors,  and  the  ministers,  convened 
in  Boston,  declared  unanimously,  "  we  ought  to  de- 
fend our  lawful  possessions  if  we  are  able,"  adding, 
with  a  Yankee  shrewdness,  "  if  not  able  to  avoid 
and  protract."*     But  Charles  soon  had  other  work 

*  Bancroft,  i.,  407. 


The  Pilgrim   Temple-Builders,  201 

to  attend  to  beside  subduing  the  colonies,  for  the 
Puritan  called  Cromwell  was  marshalling  the  stern 
Ironsides  who  never  lost  a  battle. 

So,  in  the  Providence  of  God,  the  little  New 
England  colony,  inaxinix  gentis  incunabula^  forgot- 
ten amid  the  stormy  events  which  were  shaking 
England  and  all  Europe,  had  time  to  grow,  and 
mature  her  institutions  and  consolidate  her  strength, 
so  that  henceforth  no  tyranny  on  earth  could  over- 
throw them. 

Little  did  George  the  Third  understand  the  char- 
acter of  the  New  England  institutions  and  the 
spirit  of  the  people,  when  he  endeavored  to  wrest 
away  their  immemorial  birthright  and  deprive  them 
of  the  right  of  self-government  by  the  might  of  an 
armed  soldiery.  They  hesitated,  they  remonstrated, 
they  petitioned  ;  but  when  the  decisive  moment 
came,  they  hesitated  not.  They  took  down  the  old 
musket  from  its  resting-place,  and,  hasting  from  the 
parting  kiss  of  herioc  wives  and  mothers,  marched 
through  the  night  to  Lexington.  And  on  that 
April  morning  which  succeeded,  the  "  embattled 
farmers"  stood  upon  the  green,  undaunted  by  the 
foe.  They  fired  the  signal  gun  of  Independence, 
and  from  that  moment  they  rested  not,  through 
seven  long  years  of  blood,  till  the  starry  flag  un- 
furled at  Cambridge  was  the  symbol  of  a  free  and 
sovereign  people. 


202  Sermons. 

And  there  was  another  April  morning,  dark  and 
sad,  which  we  all  remember,  when  southern  traitors 
threatened  to  quench  half  the  stars  in  the  blue 
heaven  of  freedom — a  solemn  morning,  when  the 
foe  had  boasted  that  ere  May  their  perjured  hosts 
should  take  possession  of  the  capitol: — a  desperate 
morning,  when  the  breathless  nation  was  waiting 
for  the  tramp  of  its  defenders  ;  then  it  was,  by  a 
coincidence  so  striking  that  it  seemed  a  spi^cial 
ordering  of  Providence,  the  anniversary  of  Lexing- 
ton found  the  New  England  men  all  ready  for  the 
conflict.  They  left  the  field  unplowed,  the  store 
untended  ;  they  forgot  the  wedding  and  the  fune- 
ral, as  in  the  olden  time  ;  they  could  hear  nothing 
but  the  voice  of  Freedom  summoning  them  to  finish 
what  the  Pilgrims  had  begun.  Other  patriots  were 
not  delinquent  in  hasting  at  the  call ;  but,  at  the 
end  of  time,  to  New  England  will  belong  the  glory 
of  being  first  in  preparation,  first  in  response,  first 
in  that  immortal  roll  of  martyrs  who,  at  Baltimore 
and  Shiloh  and  Gettysburg  and  Richmond,  above 
the  clouds  at  Chattanooga,  and  in  the  rigging  of 
the  ships  at  Mobile,  hurled  themselves  against  se- 
cession ;  the  first  of  that  great  sacrifice  of  three 
hundred  thousand  slain,  by  whose  death  the  nation 
lives,  and  not  only  lives,  but  sJiall  live,  with  every 
fetter  shivered  and  every  taint  of  treason  burnt  out 
with  battle-lightning,  "  pure  as  the  naked  heavens," 
and  established  on  Plymouth  Rock. 


TJie  Pilgrini   Teniplc-B^tilders.        ^     203 

These,  then,  are  the  institutions  of  New  England 
— the  free  Church,  the  free  school,  and  the  free 
commonwealth.  These  are  the  strong  towers,  the 
lofty  bulwarks  of  the  Zion,  which  the  Pilgrims 
builded  for  the  generations  following,  beautiful  for 
situation,  the  joy  of  the  whole  earth.  With  grati- 
tude and  filial  reverence,  we  go  back  to  the  sacrifi- 
cial years  in  which,  like  the  ancient  temple-builders, 
they  labored  in  the  work,  "  half  of  them  holding 
the  spears  from  the  rising  of  the  morning  till  the 
stars  appeared."  And  when  the  towers  of  freedom's 
sanctuary  at  last  shoot  up  above  the  forests  of  the 
wilderness,  we  seem  to  hear  the  psalm  of  dedication 
in  the  resounding  stave  of  the  old  version  of 
Sternhold  and  Hopkins  : 

"  Go  walke  about  all  Syon  hill,  yea  round  about  her  go, 
And  tell  the  towres  that  thereupon  are  builded  in  a  roe  ; 
And  marke  you  well  her  bulwarks  all,  behold  her  towres  there, 
That  ye  may  tell  thereof  to  them  that  after  shall  be  here  ; 
For  this  God  is  our  God,  forevermore  is  Hee  ; 
Yea  and  unto  the  death  also,  our  guider  shall  He  be.*' 

These  are  the  New  England  institutions.  Are 
tiny  worth  preserving  f     Ai^e  they  ivortJi  extending  f 

Generation  after  generation  had  passed  away 
above  the  dreamless  sleep  of  the  Pilgrims.  Sixteen 
hundred  became  eighteen  hundred,  and  the  snows 
of  December  were  changed  to  the  flowers  of  the 
new-mown  grass  of  June,  when  the  descendants  of 
the  Plymouth  colonists,  having  just  emerged  vic- 
torious from  a  dread  Rebellion,  ^fathered  from  all 


204  Sermons. 

the  land  the  delegates  of  three  thousand  Pilgrim 
Churches,  to  consider  what  next  duty  was  demanded 
of  them  by  their  country  and  their  Saviour.  It  was 
nothing  less  than  the  establishment  of  free  and 
christian  institutions  throughout  all  that  continent 
which  their  fathers  had  consecrated  to  Christ. 
They  went  in  reverent  pilgrimage  to  the  graves  of 
the  forefathers.  They  stood  on  Burial  Hill,  and 
there,  with  the  rolling  ocean  which  had  been 
ploughed  with  the  Mayflower  before  them,  with  the 
mouldering  dust  of  the  saints  beneath  them,  and 
cloudless  canopy  of  heaven  above  them — on  such 
an  altar,  in  such  a  shrine,  on  such  a  day — they  regis- 
tered their  vow  to  be  true  to  the  faith  of  the  fathers- 

With  such  an  inspiration  they  said  upon  the 
morrow.  Let  these  Pilgrim  Churches,  small  and 
great,  seeing  what  God  has  laid  upon  them,  in  next 
December,  when  the  rolling  year  shall  bring  around 
the  Sabbath  that  leads  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
Mayflower,  let  all  these  scattered  sons  of  New 
England,  as  if  gathered  at  a  thanksgiving  feast,  lift 
up  a  psalm  of  thankfulness  together  for  the  memory 
of  the  fathers  and  their  work,  and  let  them  make  a 
monumental  offering  which  shall  establish  the 
Churches  of  the  Puritans  as  the  towers  and  bulwarks 
of  the  land. 

Brethren,  the  time  has  come  !  Not  the  council 
only,  but  the  Pilgrims  ;  not  the  Pilgrims  only,  but 


The  Pilgrim   Temple-Builders.  205 

the   God  of  the   Pilgrims,   is    calling  for   our  full 
measure  of  devotion. 

As  I  look  around  me,  I  am  reminded  that  I  speak 
to  many  who,  according  to  the  flesh,  cannot  deduce 
their  lineage  from  the  Pilgrim  stock,  and  who  might 
almost  think  that  they  had  no  share  in  the  great 
inheritance.     We  are  gathered  here  from  all  quar- 
ters of  the  land — sons  of  New  Jersey  first  moulded 
by  Connecticut   Puritans  ;  sons  of  New  York,   a 
portion  of  whose  territory  was  once  included  with- 
in the  limits  of  New  England ;  and  some  have  fol- 
lowed freedom's  westward  star  in  the  track  of  the 
Mayflower  across  the  rolling  ocean.     But  Plymouth 
Rock  is  not  a  stone.     It  is  a  principle.     The  line  of 
descent  is  not  blood  in  the  veins,  but  freedom  in 
the  heart.     If  you  have  the  fathers'  faith,  then  are 
ye  heirs  according  to  the  promise.     As  members  of 
this  Church  of  Christ,  attesting  the  Pilgrim  faith 
and  established  upon  the  Pilgrim  polity,  dedicated, 
as  I  trust,  to  those  grand  objects  of  civil  and  re- 
ligious  liberty  for   which  the    Pilgrims  left   their 
native  land,  we  all  have  a  right  by  the  heraldry  of 
heaven  to  claim  them  as  our  peculiar  ancestry,  to 
rejoice  in  the  priceless  inheritance  which  they  have 
bequeathed   us,   and   as  we  follow   Robinson  and 
Winthrop  and  Carver  and  Bradford  in  their  ascend- 
ing flight  from  the  toil  and  victory  of  earth  to  ex- 
claim with  filial  gratitude,  and  pride,  and  love,  "My 


2o6  Sermons. 

Father  !  my  Father  !  the  chariots  of  Israel  and  the 
horsemen  thereof!" 

Sons  of  the  Pilgrims,  are  you  ready,  then,  for 
action  ?  Do  you  have  at  heart  the  moral  desolation 
of  the  nation  debauched  by  slavery  and  blasted  by 
war  ?  How  shall  we  better  show  our  love  to  Jesus 
than  by  imitating  those  who  voyaged  hither  not  for 
their  own  sake  but  for  the  advancement  of  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  ?  Where  in  all  the  world  is  the 
field  whiter  for  the  harvest  than  among  the  en- 
franchised population  of  both  races  at  the  South  ? 
And  how  can  we  do  a  higher  service  for  the  Master 
than  by  laying  the  foundations  of  Christian  Churches, 
honoring  God  and  loving  man,  in  the  centres  of 
all  those  mighty  empires  of  the  people  which  lie  in 
the  pathway  of  the  sun  from  the  surges  of  the 
Atlantic  to  the  murmur  of  the  streams  that  wash 
the  Pacific's  golden  strand?  Plant  there  New 
England  Churches  and  you  shall  have  New  Eng- 
land Christians.  Now,  in  this  formative,  this  trans- 
itional period  is  the  proper  moment  for  establishing 
them.  This  winter  day  is  the  moral  spring-time  in 
which  to  scatter  all  our  seed. 

And  are  you  true  to  your  country — anxious  to 
adopt  such  measures  as  shall  best  secure  the  nation 
from  such  awful  perils  as  those  through  which  it 
has  just  struggled  t  Do  you  think  that  if  the  South 
had  been  permeated  with  New  England  institutions 


The  Pilgrim  Temple-Builders.  207 

we  should  ever  have  had  to  tremble  for  the  ark  of 
God,  and  follow  in  the  sad  procession  to  bewail 
300,000  dead  ?  If  the  streams  of  New  England  in- 
fluence had  flowed  southward  as  they  did  westward, 
would  not  the  South  have  been  as  loyal  as  the  great 
heart  of  the  West  ?  And  now  that  the  armies  of 
the  Rebellion  are  disbanded,  and  the  Rebellion  it- 
self still  lives  in  the  souls  of  the  southern  people, 
exasperating  them  against  the  freedmen  on  the  one 
hand  and  against  the  hated  "  Yankees  "  on  the  other, 
what  better  garrison  can  you  find  than  a  New  Eng- 
land Church,' and  what  better  standing  army  than 
the  members  of  that  Church,  softening  the  asperities 
of  war  with  Christian  kindness,  teaching  men  their 
duty  to  their  fellow-men  and  bowing  down  together 
before  the  common  Father,  whose  gifts  are  liberty 
and  peace  ? 

Not  only,  then,  as  lovers  of  New  England,  but  as 
lovers  of  our  whole  country,  barring  up  the  path- 
way to  any  future  destruction;  yes,  as  a  thank- 
offering  to  the  God  of  our  fathers  for  sparing  the 
nation  which  they  founded,  we  are  called  to  build 
these  institutions  in  the  West  and  South. 

Never  did  so  memorable  a  day  usher  so  sublime 
an  enterprise  as  this  simultaneous  offering  of  three' 
thousand  Pilgrim  Churches  to  establish  the  faith 
and  freedom  of  their  ancestors  over  a  territory  so 
vast  that,  although  aiming  to  be  contemporaneous, 


2o8  Sermons. 

when  we  shall  have  finished  oitr  memorial  service, 
the  New  Englanders  of  the  Pacific  shall  not  have 
yet  begun.  As  I  think  upon  the  magnitude  of  such 
an  undertaking,  I  almost  tremble  lest  the  children 
shall  not  prove  themselves  worthy  of  the  old  stock 
— lest,  engrossed  in  their  own  comforts  and  suc- 
cesses, they  shrink  from  the  sacrifice  which  is  de- 
manded. 

Yet  I  feel  an  inspiration  in  me  that  the  work 
s^hall  all  be  finished.  This  snow  is  an  omen  of  vic- 
tory.* As  if  God  had  sent  it  to  be  a  messenger,  it 
leads  us  back  to  that  first  forefathers'  day,  when, 
amid  wild  men  and  wild  beasts  in  the  unbroken 
wilderness,  not  fathers  only,  but  mothers  also,  were 
exposed  to  the  storms  of  winter,  and  had  not  where 
to  lay  their  heads.  The  air  is  full  of  voices.  Every 
memorial  flake  that  drops  its  whiteness  around  our 
beautiful  tabernacle  and  our  luxurious  dwellings, 
bids  us  with  more  eloquence  than  human  lips  can 
master,  to  imitate,  according  to  our  poor  fashion, 
the  sacrifice  of  those  immortal  men  who,  while  lay- 
ing the  foundations  for  posterity  amid  hardships  that 
call  for  tears,  said  with  such  touching  pathos: 
**  When  we  are  in  our  graves,  it  will  be  all  one 
whether  we  have  died  on  beds  of  down  or  locks  of 
straw." 

Yes  !  ye  immortal  heroes,  or  rather  saints  in  light, 

*  The  snow  was  falling  during  the  delivery  of  the  discourse. 


The  Pilgrim  Temple-Builders.  209 

we  will  remember  you  this  day.  We  will  look  with 
pride  and  thankfulness  upon  this  Zion  which  ye 
builded  for  the  coming  ages.  We  will  mark  well 
your  glorious  bulwarks,  and  tell  all  your  granite 
towers.  We  will  build  up  your  spiritual  palaces, 
and  in  monumental  sanctuaries  perpetuate  your 
fame  to  the  generation  following. 

And  this  mighty  nation  which  by  Faith  ye  saw 
afar,  coming  up  out  of  great  tribulation  with  its 
robes  all  washed  in  blood,  shall  be  leavened  with 
your  life,  consecrated  to  that  Christ  to  whom  ye 
gave  it  on  the  rock,  and,  girded  with  the  omnipo- 
tence of  justice,  shall  be  established  in  your  faith 
and  freedom. 

"Till  the  waves  of  the  Bay  where  the  Mayflower  lay 
Shall  foam  and  freeze  no  more." 


210  Sermons. 

[The  following  stanzas,  written  on  the  same  occasion  which  called  forth  the  fore- 
going sermon,  may  be  properly  appended  in  this  place.] 

BURIAL  HILL. 
June,  1865. 


Morning  on  the  pines  of  Plymouth 

Breaketh  with  a  song  of  June, 
Cloudless  morning  calmly  climbing 

To  the  pomp  of  perfect  noon. 

Far  away  the  peaceful  waters, 

Drowsing  in  the  dreamy  bay. 
Scarcely  stir  the  island  shadows 

Where  of  old  the  Mayflower  lay. 

At  our  feet  the  starry  daisies, 

Springing  from  the  Pilgrims'  dust, 

Turning  death  itself  to  glory. 
Fitly  tell  the  Pilgrims'  trust. 

They  in  storms  of  dark  December, 

Scions  of  a  martyr  stock. 
Praised  the  Lord  for  all  His  mercies. 

Kneeling  there  upon  the  rock. 

Praised  Him  while  the  blast  was  roaring, 
While  the  surges  smote  the  strand  ; 

Praised  Him  while  their  hearts  were  yearning 
With  their  love  for  fatherland. 

In  the  wilds  of  death  they  wrestled, 
Seeking  what  by  faith  they  saw ; 

**  Little  matter  what  they  died  on — 
Beds  of  down  or  locks  of  straw." 

Little  recked  they  pain  or  peril, 

Ocean  wave  or  scaffold  block, 
They  who  bore  the  name  of  Pilgrim, 

They  who  built  upon  the  rock. 

For  afar  they  caught  a  vision — 

Morning  merging  into  noon. 
Snow-wreaths  melting  into  blossoms, 

Dark  December  changed  to  June. 


The  Pilgrmt  Temple-Builders.  21 1 

Now  at  length  that  day  has  broken, 
When,  with  garments  rolled  in  blood, 

Lo  !  a  free,  victorious  nation 
Lifts  its  stainless  hands  to  God. 

Then  with  eyes  still  wet  with  weeping, 

But  with  hearts  heroic  still. 
Came  the  children  of  the  Pilgrims, 

For  an  hour  on  Burial  Hill. 

There  is  queenly  Massachusetts, 

With  her  fair  New  England  train  ; 
There  the  heirs  of  El  Dorado, 

Winding  from  the  western  main. 

There  a  thousand  Pilgrim  churches, 

From  the  continent's  expanse  ; 
There  the  scattered  flocks  descended 

From  the  slaughtered  saints  of  France. 

There  the  kindred  hearts  of  England, 

Beating  as  in  days  of  yore, 
Twine  the  speech  of  Vane  and  Milton 

Round  the  name  the  fathers  bore. 

Thus  defiled  the  long  procession 

Past  the  rock  and  past  the  waves. 
Onward  up  the  hill  of  Plymouth, 

Till  it  reached  the  ancient  graves. 

Then  the  solemn  Declaration 

Swelled  upon  the  summer  air, 
Bringing  saintly  shapes  so  near  us 

That  we  bowed  our  heads  in  prayer. 

Till  with  every  hand  uplifted, 

Every  knee  upon  the  sod, 
Every  heart  in  consecration 

Gave  itself  anew  to  God. 

Praising  Him  for  all  the  fathers 

Wrought  for  God  and  wrought  for  man. 

Asking  Him  for  grace  to  finish 
What  the  Pilgrim  sires  began. 

J.  M.  H. 


THE  DANGER  OF  LOOK- 
ING BACK. 


THE 

DANGER    OF    LOOKING    BACK. 


"  Remember  Lot's  wife." 

Luke  xvii.  32. 

The  injunction  of  Christ  to  remember  this  woman 
shows  that  there  is  something  significant  in  her 
history,  which  He  would  impress  upon  the  minds  of 
His  disciples.  Yet  when  we  search  the  ancient  re- 
cords we  find  scarcely  a  word  of  detail  concerning 
her  life.  We  do  not  even  know  her  name  or  age 
or  birthplace.  All  our  knowledge  and  all  our  inter- 
est are  concentrated  in  one  single  verse  of  Genesis, 
occurring  in  the  midst  of  the  narrative  which  relates 
the  fate  of  the  wicked  cities  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah. 

These  cities  were  well  situated  in  the  rich  valley 
of  the  Jordan,  and  were  the  emporiums  of  the  wealth 
and  commerce  of  that  early  period.  But  the  in- 
habitants were  so  dissipated  and  vile  in  character, 
that  their  name  has  become,  in  all  modern  languages, 
the  symbol  of  impurity  and  abomination.  Upon 
these  Sodomites  the  Lord  is  about  to  pour  the 
thunderbolts  of  His  righteous  indignation,  and 
heavenly  messengers  are  despatched  to  warn  Lot, 
the  only  righteous  man  in  the  whole  community, 


2i6  Sermons. 

of  the  impending  danger.  He  is  bidden  to  take 
his  wife  and  his  two  daughters,  and  to  escape  with 
all  haste  to  the  mountain,  that  he  may  not  be  con- 
sumed. While  he  lingers,  the  messengers,  with 
earnest  interest  in  his  salvation,  take  him  by  the 
hand  and  take  the  hand  of  his  wife  and  the  hands 
of  his  daughters,  and  lead  them  outside  the  city  of 
destruction.  Then,  with  still  more  urgent  entreaty. 
Lot  is  bidden  to  lose  no  time  in  his  departure, 
"  Escape  for  thy  life  ;  look  not  behind  thee,  neither 
stay  thou  in  all  the  plain  :  escape  to  the  mountain, 
lest  thou  be  consumed." 

Lot  with  his  two  daughters  heard  the  exhortation 
of  the  Lord,  and  by  the  mercy  of  the  Almighty, 
manifested  signally  even  in  the  midst  of  justice, 
they  find  refuge  in  the  city  of  Zoar  which  is  spared 
in  answer  to  the  prayer  of  Lot.  But  not  so  with 
one  of  the  number.  The  wife — and  mother,  is 
overtaken  with  destruction.  This  is  the  record 
which  our  Saviour  in  the  text  summons  us  to  re- 
member, ''  But  his  wife  looked  back  from  behind 
him,  and  she  became  a  pillar  of  salt." 

I  shall  not  present  any  speculations  as  to  the 
various  methods  of  explaining  the  nature  of  her 
death.  All  the  necessities  of  the  case  are  fully  met, 
if  we  suppose  that  she  lingered  to  look  back,  in  di- 
rect opposition  to  the  urgent  command  of  the  divine 
messengers,  and  that  she  was  overtaken  and  en- 


The  Danger  of  Looking  Back.  2 1 7 

Veloped  in  the  eruption  of  saline  and  bituminous 
particles,  which  suffocated  her  and  shrouded  her 
and  left  her  a  standing  monument  of  disobedience 
and  apostacy. 

Something  akin  to  this  would  seem  to  have  oc- 
curred at  the  destruction  of  Pompeii  by  volcanic 
fire,  near  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era.     By 
the  researches  of  the  present  century  the  remains 
oi  many  persons  have  been  discovered,  who  evi- 
dently lost  their  lives  by  lingering  too  long  when 
the  fiery  deluge  was  advancing  with  its  inexorable 
tide.     Among  other  sad  memorials  of  that  day  of 
desolation,  a  cavity  was  discovered  in  a  block  of 
lava,  which  seemed  to  suggest  that  it  had  been  the 
coffin  of  a  human  being.     It  occurred  to  the  dis- 
coverer that  by  pouring  in  plaster  of  Paris  he  might 
use   the   lava   as  a  mould.     The   block  was  then 
carefully  opened,  and  lo !  a  full  life  statue  of  a  wo- 
man, apparantly  young  and  beautiful,  with  the  form 
of  her  agonized  features,  and  even  the  folds  of  her 
dress  and  the  marks  of  her  jeweled  fingers,  still 
plainly  discernible  after  the  lapse  of  eighteen  cen- 
turies ;    a  perpetual   monument  of    the    doom    of 
one  who  looked  back  for  friends  or  jewels  when  she 
should  have  hastened  for  her  life. 

But  we  are  not  to  dwell  upon  the  literal  destruc- 
tion ;  Christ  makes  use  of  this  for  a  spiritual  purp(Tse. 
And  with  this  end   in  view,  I  wish  to  institute  a 

10 


2 1 8  Sermons. 

comparison  between  the  conduct  of  Lot's  wife,  and 
the  conduct  of  other  sinners  ;  between  her  awful  fate 
and  that  of  many  sinners  who  become  eternal  monu- 
ments of  the  danger  of  looking  back  when  once 
they  have  set  their  faces  toward  the  mountain  of 
salvation. 

Let  us  remember  Lot's  wife.  Remember  in  the 
first  place. 

(i)  That  this  woman  was  in  real  danger. 
The  men  of  Sodom  evidently  had  no  belief  in 
the  warning  of  the  heavenly  messengers.  Some  of 
them  had  assembled  to  participate  in  an  awful  sin, 
and  with  their  horrid  purpose  burning  in  their  hearts, 
all  remonstrance  seemed  to  be  in  vain.  It  was  in 
vain.  They  paid  no  regard  to  the  voice  of  righteous- 
ness, nor  even  to  the  sacred  appeal  of  violated 
hospitality.  The  angels  they  despised  as  ordinary 
strangers.  And  when  the  Lord  would  convince 
them  and  rebuke  them  and  they  were  stricken  with 
blindness,  even  then,  the  sightless  watchers  groped 
about  in  bestial  rage,  wearying  themselves  to 
find  the  door  of  Lot.  What  a  vivid  picture  of 
the  determination  of  the  soul  to  sin,  in  spite  of  the 
remonstrances  of  the  Almighty  in  warnings  and  in 
judgments.  They  did  not  believe  there  was  any 
danger.  They  would  take  the  risk  for  the  sake  of 
a  momentary  gratification  of  their  passions.  Still 
the  voice  went  on    resounding   with   the   note  of 


TJie  Danger  of  Looking  Back.  219 

danger.  Lot  hastened  to  the  members  of  his 
family,  and  told  his  sons-in-law  that  the  Lord  was 
about  to  destroy  the  city,  and  conjured  them  to  be- 
lieve him.  They  smiled  at  the  old  man.  They 
looked  around  and  their  eyes  saw  no  smoke,  their 
ears  caught  no  rumblings  of  destruction,  their 
nostrils  inhaled  no  sulphurous  fumes.  Poor  old 
Lot !  He  must  be  getting  a  little  b<^side  himself 
In  the  expressive  words  of  the  record,  "  He  seemed 
as  one  that  mocked  unto  his  sons-in-law."  They 
did  not  believe  that  they  were  in  any  danger. 

Even  Lot  himself,  though  he  received  implicitly 
the  assurance  of  God,  was  not  so  much  impressed 
with  the  reality  and  awfulness  of  the  impending 
destruction  as  one  might  naturally  expect.  He 
believed  that  the  city  was  to  be  destroyed,  but  still 
there  was  not  an  overwhelming  sense  of  danger 
which  should  swallow  up  all  other  thought  and 
action.  He  began  quietly  and  mournfully  to  take 
his  departure,  supposing  that  this  was  enough. 
But  there  was  need  of  greater  energy.  He  stood 
on  the  crater  of  a  volcano,  and  the  fiery  surges  were 
boiling  till  the  ground  was  hot.  "  And  while  he 
lingered,"  says  the  record,  "  the  men  laid  hold  upon 
his  hand,  and  upon  the  hand  of  his  wife  and  upon 
the  hand  of  his  two  daughters  ;  the  Lord  being 
merciful  unto  him  :  and  they  brought  him  forth, 
and  set  him  without  the  city."     Still  the  men  of 


.  2  20  Sermons. 

Sodom  argued  that  there  was  no  danger.  They 
saw  no  portents.  The  sky  was  serene  and  the  sun 
shone  with  brightness  in  the  unclouded  heaven. 
The  smiths  were  busy  at  their  forges.  The  build- 
ers were  laying  their  bricks  for  commodious  habita- 
tions. The  wains  were  hauling  the  produce. 
The  shepherds  were  leading  their  flocks  to  the 
dewy  pastures.  The  traffickers  were  busy  and 
shrewd.  What  sign  was  there  of  the  truth  of  the 
wild  story  of  Lot } 

And,  moreover,  how  unreasonable  such  a  destruc- 
tion would  appear  to  them.  We  may  imagine  a 
knot  of  Sodomites  discoursing  upon  the  probabili- 
ties. There  are  sons-in-law  connected  with  a  pious 
family,  and  the  blind  men  who  are  somehow  more 
than  usually  ready  to  talk  about  God,  now  that 
morning  has  come. 

"  There  is  no  evidence  at  all  satisfactory  to  my 
mind,"  says  a  scientific  man,  "  that  nature  is  to  be 
turned  out  of  her  ordinary  course.  The  belief  is 
only  to  be  regarded  as  a  superstition.  Lot,  you 
know,  is  a  priest.  We  must  not  be  aftected  too 
much  by  his  peculiar  notions.  We  must  be  broad- 
minded  and  liberal — all  will  be  well." 

"  Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  T  says  ano- 
ther ;  "a  whole  city  to  be  burned  up  by  the  Almighty 
on  account  of  its  sins ;  I  admit  that  most  of  us 
bear  a  somewhat  disreputable  character.     But,  after 


The  Danger  of  L  ooking  Back.  221 

all,  what  is  the  character  but  the  natural  develop- 
ment of  the  passions  which  were  ours  from  birth  ? 
What  is  this  so-called  sin  but  a  natural  weakness, 
involving  imperfection  rather  than  guilt  ?  It  would 
clearly  be  an  act  of  injustice  for  the  Almighty  to 
inflict  such  a  destruction  upon  us  on  account  01 
such  weaknesses  as  these.  The  punishment  would 
be  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  guilt.  No,  my 
friends,  God  will  not  be  guilty  of  such  injustice. 
Go  on  with  your  inclinations.  Be  of  good  cheer. 
The  city  is  safe." 

"  Safe,"  says  one  of  the  blind  men  ;  "  who  can 
doubt  it  except  that  dotard  Lot,  and  the  men  that 
were  with  hitn  in  that  accursed  house  }  Why  can- 
not he  leave  us  poor,  blind  fellows  alone }  If  God 
had  intended  to  punish  us.  He  has  fulfilled  His 
intention.  Are  we  not  blind  t  This  then  may  be 
the  judgment  of  the  Almighty  ;  and  if  the  penalty 
is  paid,  there  is  no  future  danger  in  store  for  us." 

"  To  be  sure,"  adds  one  of  the  sons-in-law  ;  "  it 
made  me  smile  to  see  the  earnestness  with  which 
the  old  gentleman  spoke.  A  very  well  meaning 
man,  one  who  is  personally  dear  to  all  who  know 
him  ;  but  his  theology  is  terribly  out  of  joint.  It  is 
probably  the  effect  of  his  early  training.  He  has 
been  so  long  associated  with  Abraham  his  uncle, 
and  has  become  so  hardened  by  the  slaughter  of 
animals  for  sacrifice,  that  his  views  of  religion  are 


222  Sermons. 

stern  and  severe,  and  if  I  might  so  speak,  bloody. 
It  is  congenial  to  him  to  expect  the  ruin  of  the  city 
by  fire.  But  the  God  whom  I  recognize  is  a  father. 
Imagine  an  earthly  father  pouring  burning  flames 
upon  a  whole  city  full  of  his  children  and  their  kin- 
dred. The  thing  is  inconceivable.  How  then  are 
we  to  suppose,  for  an  instant,  that  our  heavenly 
Father,  who  is  all  compassion,  would  indulge  in  such 
a  cruelty  "i  No,  no,  my  friends.  Quiet  your  appre- 
hensions about  justice.    God  is  altogether  too  good." 

But  hark !  What  rumbling  sound  is  that  1  What 
means  this  darkening  sun  ;  and  why  this  ominous 
chill  1  Even  while  they  are  mocking  and  disputing, 
the  thunder-bolt  has  burst  upon  the  guilty  city. 
The  heavens  are  blinded.  The  earth  staggers. 
The  volcanoes  thunder.  The  air  is  glowing  in  the 
distance.  On  the  fiery  flood  advances.  Amid- the 
bellowings  of  cattle,  the  groans  of  nature,  and  the 
despairing  shrieks  of  doubters  and  blasphemers, 
the  city  is  deluged  with  consuming  fire,  while  Lot 
and  his  family  are  fleeing  for  their  lives,  just  on 
the  edge  of  the  devouring  storm,  whose  sulphurous 
breath  and  whirling  flames  threaten  to  overtake 
them.  Oh  !  haste  thee.  Lot  I  Haste  thee  !  Look 
not  behind  thee,  neither  stay  thee  in  all  the  plain  ! 
On,  on,  on  to  the  mountain,  lest  thou  be  con- 
sumed ! 

(2)     In  the  light  of  this  terrible  judgment,  we 


The  Danger  of  L ooking  Back,  223 

surely  cannot  be  in  doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  the 
danger  which  threatened  the  wife  of  Lot.  God  had 
solemnly  declared  by  His  messengers  that  the 
wicked  city  should  be  destroyed.  Onsthe  morrow 
Abraham  got  up  early  and  looked  toward  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah,  and  toward  all  the  land  of  the  plain, 
and  behold  and  lo  !  the-  smoke  of  the  country  went 
up  as  the  smoke  of  a  furnace.  And  where  is  Lot's 
wife }  She  is  not  included  in  the  general  des- 
truction. She  has  certain  advantages  from  her 
connection  with  a  pious  husband.  She  saw  the 
heavenly  messengers  who  visited  his  house.  She 
knew  the  meaning  of  the  blindness.  She  witnessed 
the  urgency  of  the  angel's  entreaty  to  leave  the 
place.  She  was  strongly  moved  by  the  implicit 
belief  and  obedient  example  of  her  husband.  She 
had  warning  upon  warning.  A  shhiing  one  even 
tookher  by  the  hand,  and  thrust  her  out  of  the 
city,  and  still  this  woman  was  destroyed  stopping  in 
the  race  for  safety,  thinking  perhaps  of  the  safety 
of  treasures  or  the  fate  of  friends,  or  disbelieving  that 
God  would  in  very  deed  consume  the  beautilul  city  ; 
at  any  rate,  disobeying  the  express  command  of  God 
not  to  linger  for  a  moment,  not  to  look  back.  She 
turned  to  gaze  upon  the  awful  spectacle.  She  tar- 
ried too  long.  On  the  wings  of  the  wind  the  dead- 
ly storm  encircled  her  ;  and  thus,  midway  between 
salvation  and  destruction,  she  perished  in  the  over- 


224  Sermons. 

throw  of  Sodom.  Ah,  yes,  the  danger  was  real; 
real,  not  only  to  the  wicked  wretches  of  the  plain, 
but  also  to  this  good  man's  wife,  reputable  in 
character,  somewhat  influenced  for  good,  and 
making  a  show  of  obeying  the  commandment  of 
the  Lord,  but  dying  on  her  way  to  salvation.  Our 
Saviour  would  have  us  remember  this. 

(3)  It  is  quite  evident,  from  the  whole  narrative, 
that  Lot's  wife,  though  she  perished  miserably,  and 
for  all  purposes  of  safety,  might  just  as  well  have 
remained  with  the  blind  blasphemers  in  the  doomed 
city,  was  yet  fully  warned  of  her  condition. 
If  the  judgment  had  burst  forth  without  any  pre- 
liminary notice,  God  might  perhaps  have  been 
regarded  as  unmerciful.  But  His  mercy  is  shown 
in  giving  to  all  the  inhabitants  the  fullest  and  most 
solemn  assurance  of  the  coming  destruction.  Long 
before  the  great  eruptions  which  engulf  the  Italian 
towns,  the  peasants  discern  the  prophecy  in  the 
rumblings  and  commotions  which  seem  to  warn 
them  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth.  As  the  day 
of  terror  approaches,  the  kine  toss  their  heads  and 
utter  strange  cries  of  fear.  The  birds  whirl  scream- 
ing, as  if  the  heralds  of  a  subterranean  storm.  The 
ground  undulates,  as  if  pressed  by  a  molten  tide  of 
lava.  Then  the  people  fly  for  refuge  to  the  distant 
mountains,  none  of  them  so  hardy  as  to  shut  their 
ears  to  such  solemn  portents.     They  are  accepted 


The  Danger  of  L ooking-  Back.  225 

as  the  voice  of  a  merciful  God.  And  thus,  in 
Sodom,  came  the  express  warnings  of  the  Almighty ; 
the  warning  of  the  two  angels,  the  warning  of  the 
stroke  of  blindness,  the  repeated  warning  of  the 
saintly  guests,  the  warning  of  her  husband,  the 
warning  of  her  own  senses,  as  she  heard  the  crash 
of  the  burning  city  mingling  with  the  wail  of  the 
lost.  Over  and  over  again,  with  every  variety  of 
supplication  and  remonstrance,  even  to  the  jDhysical 
act  of  thrusting  her  along  out  of  the  city,  she  had 
been  warned  with  all  the  energy  of  conjugal  and  of 
celestial  love.  Never,  either  in  her  dying  agonies 
nor  in  the  world  to  come,  can  this  poor  woman 
plead  that  she  was  taken  by  surprise  ;  nay,  that  she 
did  not  have  warning  abundantly,  more  than  thous- 
ands of  others  who  perished  in  the  flames.  Our 
Saviour  would  have  us  remember  this. 

(4)  Another  memorable  circumstance  in  the 
history  is,  that  this  woman  was  almost  saved.  A 
spectator,  who  from  a  distant  height  had  witnessed 
the  whole  scene  of  destruction,  had  seen  the  great 
majority  of  the  inhabitants  mocking,  indifferent  and 
independent,  and  had  caught  sight  of  this  one 
family  of  Lot,  out  of  the  city,  away  from  the  pre- 
sent sweep  of  the  flames,  with  their  faces  set  to- 
wards the  mountains,  eagerly  hastening  their 
footsteps  at  the  bidding  of  the  angels ;  such  a  one 
could  scarcely  have  entertained  a  doubt  that  all  of 


226  Sermons. 

these  were  safe.  Yet  one  of  the  number  perished. 
Perished  after  she  knew  her  danger,  perished  after 
V  she  had  resolved  to  fly,  perished  away  from  the 
^^  common  multitude  of  sinners,  perished  not  far  from 
a  praying  husband,  perished  not  long  after  the  vis- 
ion of  angels,  perished  when  she  was  making  some 
effort  to  escape,  perished  within  sight  of  the  moun- 
tain, perished  when  one  final  determination  would 
have  placed  her  beyond  the  barrier  of  fire.  So 
perishes  the  homeward-bound  ship.  It  has  taken  its 
freight  of  life  and  wealth  from  China  and  Japan,  half 
the  circumference  of  the  world  away.  It  has  passed 
over  the  great  watery  waste  where  swim  the  levia- 
thans. It  has  breasted  the  monsoons  of  the  Indian 
Ocean,  and  rounded  the  Cape,  and  laughed  at  the 
gales  of  the  Atlantic,  and  at  last,  after  lonely  months 
of  struggle  and  victory,  makes  the  distant  lighthouse 
off  Sandy  Hook.  She  is  almost  home.  Another 
tide  will  bear  her  to  her  slip.  Another  hour  will 
waft  these  loved  ones  to  the  hearts  that  wait  upon 
the  shore.  But  down  comes  the  northeaster.  There 
arc  the  frowning  rocks.  O  God!  The  good  ship 
is  dashed  upon  the  breakers  !  wrecked  at  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor,  almost  saved  !  After  ten  thousand 
miles  of  safety,  lost  within  sight  of  home! 

In  what  respect,  then,  was  Lot's  wife  the  better 
for  the  effort  she  had  made,  and  the  distance  from 
the  city  at  which  she  died }    As  far  as  the  result 


The  Danger  of  L ooking  Back.  227 

was  concerned,  she  gained  nothing.  She  might 
just  as  well  have  tarried  with  her  sons-in-law,  and 
abode  by  her  stuff.  It  would  have  been  just  as  well 
for  her  if  she  had  mocked  or  scorned  or  entirely 
neglected  the  message.  Just  as  well  for  her  if  she 
had  pleaded  weakness  or  domestic  employments, 
want  of  time,  or  want  of  ability  to  undertake  the 
journey  of  salvation.  She  could  but  have  perished 
in  the  city,  and  she  perished  outside  its  walls.  Her 
character  was  in  many  respects  quite  superior  to 
that  of  the  wicked  Sodomites,  but  she  perished 
with  the  same  destruction  which  consumed  them. 
In  what  respect  then  was  her  effort  at  escape  of 
any  avail }  It  was  of  avail  in  that  so  far  as  she 
made  the  effort,  she  was  farther  and  farther  from 
the  danger.  It  was  of  just  as  much  avail  as  it 
would  have  been  if  she  had  been  saved,  for  then 
she  would  have  been  obliged  to  put  forth  just  the 
same  exertion.  It  was  of  essential  importance  just 
as  far  as  it  was  continued,  and  failed  of  complete 
success,  not  because  of  what  ivas  done,  but  because 
when  the  partial  success  summoned  her  to  unpre- 
cedented and  victorious  energy,  she  relaxed  her 
speed,  lost  the  sense  of  danger,  stopped  to  look  and 
consider,  stopped  it  may  be  to  weep  over  her  lost 
kindred,  when  God  had  said  to  her,  "  Look  not  back, 
haste- for  thy  Ufe,  escape  to  the  rnountain  lest  thou 
be  consumed." 


228  Sermons. 

This  woman  had  great  advantages,  advantages 
worth  all  the  world  to  her.  A  few  more  steps  might 
have  crowned  all  her  exertions  with  salvation. 
As  it  was,  she  miserably  perished,  and  on  the  sul- 
phurous pedestal  at  her  feet  the  angels  might  have 
written  for  the  admonition  of  all  coming  generations, 
"Almost  saved."     Remember  Lot's  wife. 

(5)  One  other  thought  remains  for  our  remem- 
brance. Lot's  wife  was  destroyed  because  she 
looked  back.  Our  Saviour  in  presenting  the  des- 
truction of  Sodom  and  the  death  of  Lot's  wife  to 
His  disciples,  would  seem  to  intimate  that  the 
ruling  motive  for  the  delay  was  a  hankering  after 
worldly  goods.  "  In  that  day,"  the  day  of  the  Son 
of  Man,  "  he  which  shall  be  upon  the  house-top,  and 
his  stuff  in  the  house,  let  him  not  come  down  to 
take  it  away ;  and  he  that  is  in  the  field,  let  him 
likewise  not  return  back.  Remember  Lot's  wife." 
It  is  quite  in  accordance  with  the  probabilities  of 
the  case  that  the  ill-fated  woman  was  thinking  of 
her  household  gear,  for  her  husband  was  one  of 
the  princes  of  the  city.  It  is  probable  that  she  was, 
on  the  very  verge  of  her  final  agony,  lamenting  over 
the  destruction  of  furnishings  and  hangings,  pictures 
of  tapestry,  and  utensils  of  silver  and  the  pleasant 
habitation  in  which  she  had  enjoyed  them.  Poor, 
foolish  woman,  to  be  thus  endangering  her  life  for 
the  sake  of  her  household  goods  !    But  you  will  say 


The  Danger  of  Looking  Back.  229 

that  her  heart  may  have  been  with  her  family  who 
remained.     But  even  then,  if  she  could  not  save 
them,  the  duty  remained  equally  urgent  to  follow 
the  bidding  of  Heaven.     Lot  had  as  true  a  concern 
for  his  kindred  as  did  his  wife,  but  the  Lord  had 
given  him  the  command  to  flee.     He  obeyed  the 
Lord,  but  his  wife  set  her  emotions  and  feelings  in 
opposition  to  a  direct  commandment  of  the  Al- 
mighty.    Whatever   the   motive   which    prompted 
her,  this  was  her  guilt,  that  God  said,  look  not  back 
for  thy  life,  and  she  disobeyed  the  warning.     God 
knew  the  influences  which  would  magnetize  her 
toward  the  city  of  destruction  ;  and  therefore  it  was 
that  the  exhortation  was  so  urgent  not  to  lose  a 
moment,   not  to  waste   a  thought,  not  to  cast  a 
lingering  look  behind  her,  but  press  on  till  she  %vas 
saved.     If  she  had  but  continued  with  the  same 
earnestness  with  which  she  began,  if  she  had  re- 
nounced every  other  desire   and  hope  in  the  one 
resolve  to  escape  from  Sodom,  who  can  doubt  that 
she  would  have  been  successful ;  who  can  doubt 
that  she  had  the  same  ability  to  finish  as  to  begin 
her  deliverance  ;  who  can  doubt  that  Lot  longed 
for  it,  and  that  the  angels  who  urged  her,  and  the 
Almighty  who  sent  the  angels  longed  for  it }     But 
she  hesitated,  she  lingered,  she  looked  back,  and 
she  became  a  pillar  of  salt ;  an  everlasting  monument 
to  those  who  begin  to  obey  the  Almighty,  but  stop 


230  Sei'mons. 

to  look  back  upon  the  world.  O  wretched  woman  ! 
In  such  inevitable  danger,  as  warned  by  men  and 
angels,  so  conscious  of  the  danger,  so  near  the  con- 
fines of  salvation,  and  yet  destroyed  in  the  flames  of 
Sodom,  destroyed  by  looking  back !  Remember 
Lot's  wife. 

This  eventful  history  would  be  to  us,  my  hearers, 
as  an  idle  tale,  if  we  failed  to  draw  the  proper  in- 
ference as  to  our  own  salvation.  All  these  things 
are  examples,  and  they  are  written  for  our  admon- 
ition upon  whom  the  ends  of  the  world  have  come. 
Christ  would  have  us  remember  Lot's  wife  in  order 
that  her  fate  may  be  a  solemn  warning  to  all  who 
are  not  yet  saved.  Let  us  complete  the  parellel. 
The  danger  to  Lot's  wife  was  not  imaginary,  it  was 
real.  Precisely  as  the  word  of  the  Lord  had  spoken, 
the  fire  and  brimstone  rained  upon  the  wicked  city. 
The  inhabitants  did  eat,  they  drank,  they  bought, 
they  sold,  they  planted,  they  builded  ;  "  but  the  same 
day  that  Lot  went  out  of  Sodom,  it  rained  fire  and 
brimstone  from  heaven,  and  destroyed  them  all : 
even  thus  shall  it  be  in  the  day  when  the  Son  of 
Man  is  revealed."  The  evidence  of  the  danger  to 
unrepenting  sinners  is  precisely  the  same  as  that 
which  was  given  to  the  scoffers  of  Sodom.  It  is 
the  word  of  the  Lord.  He  sent  His  messengers 
with  supernatural  credentials,  saying,  **  Up,  get  yoii 
out  of  this  place  ;  for  the  Lord  will  destroy  this  city," 


The  Danger  of  Looking  Back.  231 

Was  it  not  destroyed  ?  He  sends  now  by  His  ser- 
vants the  prophets,  and  by  His  only  begotten  Son, 
saying,  "  The  wicked  shall  be  turned  into  hell." 
"He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  hath  everlasting  life. 
He  that  believeth  not  the  Son  shall  not  see  life ; 
but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him."  "  Except  a 
man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of 
God."  "  Indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation  and  an- 
guish, upon  every  soul  of  man  that  doeth  evil."  '*  Ex- 
cept ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise  perish."  "  These 
shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment."  "And 
there  shall  in  no  wise  enter  into  it  anything  that 
defileth,  neither  whatsoever  worketh  abomination  or 
maketh  a  lie ;  but  they  which  are  written  in  the 
Lamb's  book  of  life."  This  is  the  word  of  God. 
As  you  listen,  some  of  you  may  cry  out  against  the 
superstition  of  a  hell,  some  of  you  may  mock,  some 
of  you  may  wrap  yourselves  up  in  strong  impene- 
trability and  stoically  wait  till  your  damnation  comes. 
Thus  it  was  in  Sodom.  But  the  word  of  the  Lord 
'  was  not  a  lie.  There  is  a  real  danger,  an  awful 
danger  to  all  who  are  living  in  sin.  Do  you  dis- 
believe it }  So  did  the*  Sodomites.  Do  you  im- 
agine that  somehow  or  other  you  will  be  saved  as 
you  are  }  So  did  the  men  of  Sodom.  Do  you 
think  that  God  is  too  good  to  punish  you  t  God  is 
the  same  being  who  overwhelmed  Sodom  in  fiery 
whirlwind  of  torment  and  destruction.     The  word 


232  Sermons. 

of  God  is  not  a  lie.  Whatever  He  has  declared,  He 
will  perform.  He  has  said,  ''  The  wages  of  sin  is 
death."  He  has  taken  the  overthrow  of  Sodom  as 
the  emblem  of  that  death  eternal.  It  is  the  emblem 
of  horror,  of  anguish,  of  desolation.  God's  word  is 
not  a  lie.  Just  as  surely  as  the  wrath  of  God  came 
down  on  Sodom,  just  so  surely  will  it  burst  upon 
the  sinner.  If  ever  you  have  any  doubt  as  to  the 
reality  and  intensity  of  your  spiritual  danger,  re- 
member Lot's  wife. 

Another  point  in  the  parallel  is,  that  every  sin- 
ner in  this  congregation  has  received  full  warning 
of  the  danger.  When  the  rocks  have  crushed  down 
upon  the  railroad  track,  making  one  train  a  wreck 
and  the  brakeman  runs  back  with  the  waving  flag 
of  danger,  what  shall  be  thought  of  the  engineer 
who  keeps  his  locomotive  running  at  the  same  high 
rate  of  speed }  If  the  engineer  is  crushed  in 
pieces,  can  the  awful  responsibility  fall  upon  any 
other  then  his  own  head  t  He  was  notified  of  his 
danger,  and  heeded  not  the  warning.  So  the  men 
of  Sodom  were  notified  by  the  ministry  of  angels. 
So  was  the  wife  of  Lot  warned,  over  and  over  again, 
of  the  imminency  of  the  danger,  and  urged  to  fly 
for  her  life  away  from  the  swiftly  sweeping  storm  cf 
fire.  So  the  sinner  is  warned  with  a  thousand 
remonstrances  which  the  Sodomites  did  not  hear. 
He  is  warned  by  the  word  of  God.     He  is  warned 


The  Danger  of  L  ooking  Back.  233 

by  the  death  of  Christ.  He  is  warned  by  the  voice 
of-  God  within  him,  warned  by  ministers  and  teach- 
ers, warned  by  providences  such  in  their  nature  as 
that  which  smote  the  men  of  Sodom  with  bhndness, 
warned  by  the  entreaties  of  a  pious  husband,  a 
father,  a  mother  or  a  wife,  warned  I  doubt  not  by 
holy  angels,  warned  by  the  very  example  before  us 
of  the  inevitable  fate  of  the  disobedient,  warned  by 
lapsing  seasons  and  dying  kindred  and  gracious  re- 
vivals, warned  by  weakened  compunctions  and 
broken  resolutions  and  petrified  tears,  warning  upon 
warning  in  the  crash  and  in  the  silence,  as  if  a 
thousand  bells  were  pealing  in  the  air.  Oh,  I  warn 
you,  warn  you  now  of  the  sinner's  inevitable  doom  I 
With  the  very  warning  of  the  angel  to  Lot's  wife, 
I  cry  out,  Escape  for  thy  life.  Look  not  behind 
thee,  neither  stay  thou  in  all  the  plain.  Escape  to 
Mount  Calvary,  lest  thou  be  consumed. 

And  have  you  heard  the  warning  and  begun  to 
flee  for  refuge  t  Remember  that  Lot's  wife  began  to 
flee  and  was  almost  saved.  Here  is  an  additional, 
and  most  special  warning  to  many  of  you,  for  many 
of  you  are  on  the  very  verge  of  the  kingdom. 
Many  of  you  may  say  with  truth,  "  Almost  thou 
persuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian."  Many  of  you 
are  so  well  instructed  in  Christian  doctrine,  many 
of  you  are  so  well  imbued  with  Christian  training, 
many  of  you  have  such  a  respect  for  religion,  many 


234  Sermons. 

of  you  give  such  external  indications  of  a  Christian 
nfe  and  character,  many  of  you  have  even  recently 
formed  such  good  resolutions  to  flee  from  the  wrath 
to  come,  that  I  may  say  of  you  with  thankfulness 
and  truthfulness,  tJiese  are  almost  saved.  Almost 
saved !  And  yet  you  may  perish  right  where  you 
are.  Remember  Lot's  wife.  And  if  you  perish  now, 
what  have  you  gained  by  all  your  knowledge  and 
your  conviction  of  sin,  your  longing  for  Christ, 
your  praying,  your  weeping,  your  escaping  thus  far 
toward  the  mountain  ?  You  are  lost  if  you  stop 
where  you  are,  and  lost  with  additional  aggra- 
vations. Lost  on  the  very  line  between  heaven  and 
hell.  Lost  on  the  margin  of  the  very  stream  of 
life,  when  another  bound  would  bear  you  out  of 
danger.  Lost,  when  after  a  weary  pilgrimage,  you 
just  catch  the  gleam  of  salvation,  and  the  door  of 
mercy  is  shut  in  your  very  face.  Destroyed  not  in 
the  dwellings  of  Sodom,  yet  saved  not  on  the  moun- 
tain of  Zoar.  Lost  in  the  very  crisis  of  deliverance. 
Lost  in  the  very  pause  of  escape.  O  sinner  !  haste 
thee  then,  haste  thee  I  Remember  Lot's  wife. 
Linger  not,  falter  not.  Look  not  back  for  an  in- 
stant on  the  treasures  and  pleasures  of  the  world. 
Look  not  back  on  the  living  nor  on  the  dead.  Stay 
not  for  an  instant  till  you  have  laid  hold  of  the  hope 
of  Jesus,  and  can  cry  out  from  the  top  of  the 
mountain,  "  Glory  to  God,  I'm  saved,  I'm  saved  I" 


THE 

BROADNESS  OF  THE  BIBLE 


THE  BROADNESS  OF  THE   BIBLE. 


"Thy  commandment  is  exceeding  broad." 

Psalm  cxlx.  96. 

The  whole  of  the  119th  Psalm  is  a  majestic 
ode  which  celebrates  in  every  verse  the  match- 
less praises  of  the  Word  of  God.  What  the 
Dresden  Virgin  is  among  the  miracles  of  art, 
what  Orion  is  among  the  constellations  of  the 
firmament,  what  the  Bible  itself  is  among  all  other 
books,  such  is  this  peerless  Psalm  in  comparison 
with  all  that  has  been  uttered  by  man,  inspired 
or  uninspired,  in  honor  of  the  Scriptures.  The 
theme  is  worthy  of  the  royal  poet,  and  the  poet  is 
equal  to  his  transcendent  theme. 

When  we  read  the  most  beautiful  poem  of 
modern  times,  in  which  the  sad  Laureate  of 
England  culls  all  the  flowers  of  love  and  genius 
to  strew  them  on  the  bier  of  Hallam,  we  are  sur- 
prised at  first  at  the  long-continued  flow  of  the 
many-versed  monody.  But  we  soon  perceive  that 
so  full  was  the  poet's  heart  and  so  multiform  were 
the  charms  which  clustered  around  the  memory  of 


240  SermojtS. 

his  beloved  friend,  that  no  smaller  compass  could 
contain  the  wealth  of  honor  and  affection  which 
he  was  yearning  to  express.  He  could  not  abridge 
the  "In  Memoriam"  by  a  single  verse,  for  every 
verse  contained  some  special  touch  of  the  "van- 
ished hand,"  some  separate  tone  of  the  "voice 
which   was  still." 

And  such  is  David's  apprehension  of  the  mani- 
fold  excellence   of  God   in    His   Word   as,  seven 
times  a  day,  he  meditates  upon  it,  as  he  views  it 
in  its  thousand  relations  to  human  experience,  and 
beholds  it  like  the  neck  of  the  dove  changing  into 
new   splendors   at  every  glance  of  the  sunbeam, 
that  he  can  satisfy  the  fullness  of  his  reverential 
love  only  by  a  long  succession   of  praises  which 
roll  onward  like  the  march  of  heaven  with  all  its 
stars.     Now  he  discerns  it  as  the  law  of  God,  now 
as  His  way,  now  as  His  testimonies,  now  as  His 
commandments,  now  as  His  precepts,  now  as  His 
judgments,  now  as  His  righteousness,  now  as  His 
statutes,  now  as  His  truth  and  faithfulness.     Then, 
turning  to  the  human  side,  he  views  it  in  its  effects 
upon  the  soul,  and  describes  it  in  its  blessedness, 
its   purity,  its  enlightenment.     He  sees  it  in  all 
its  adaptation  to  the  varying  phases  of  Christian 
experience.     It  is  the  chosen  delight  of  the  pros- 
perous.    It  is  the  solace  of  the  sorrowful.     It  is 
the  guide  of  the  young  man.     It  is  the  support  of 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  241 

old  age.  In  one  verse  it  is  fine  gold.  In  another 
it  is  a  song.  In  another  it  is  honey.  In  another 
it  is  a  lamp.  In  another  it  is  a  shield.  In  another 
it  is  a  sun.  In  another  it  is  a  great  spoil.  No 
wonder  then  that  David  requires  a  harp  of  many 
strings  on  which  to  sound  such  many-sided  glories. 
No  wonder  that  the  exuberance  of  his  emotions 
demands  for  its  channel  the  longest  chapter  of  the 
Bible. 

Many  times  before,  in  other  Psalms,  David 
has  given  some  partial  exoression  to  his  love  of 
God's  law.  Over  and  over  again  he  breaks  forth 
in  joyful  acknowledgments,  spontaneous  as  the 
"  silver  iterances "  of  lovers.  But  now  he  ascends 
the  throne  with  his  singing  robes  around  him, 
to  compact  in  one  full  and  perfect  utterance  all 
the  fruition  of  his  reverence  and  devotion.  This 
exalted  purpose  is  seen  in  the  very  construction 
of  the  Psalm.  It  consists  of  twenty-two  portions, 
and,  in  the  original,  each  stanza  of  every  division 
begins  with  the  same  letter  of  the  Hebrew 
alphabet.  The  poet  seems  to  have  set  himself 
"  to  search  his  native  language  o'er  and  o'er"  for 
some  method  which  should  best  extort  all  its 
treasures  for  his  glorious  theme.  And  so  he 
takes  the  alphabet  itself,  and  marshals  it  in 
order,  and  makes  every  letter  from  beginning  to 
end   bear   its    manifold    tribute   of    hallelujahs    to 


242  Sermons. 

the  holy  law  of  God,  Aleph  must  come  with  its 
song.  Beth  must  follow  with  new  praises.  Gimel 
must  bring  its  golden  present.  Daleth  must  bow 
down  its  head  in  adoration.  Little  Vau  must  not 
omit  its  vowels  of  thanksgiving.  And  thus  the 
Psalmist  summons  every  jot  and  tittle  of  the 
language,  with  all  its  gutturals,  palatals,  Unguals, 
and  labials,  to  bear  their  testimony  to  the  truth  of 
which  they  are  the  symbols  ;  and  ends  at  last  with 
stately  Tau  in  supplication  and  benediction. 

The  comprehensiveness  of  the  Bible,  which  is 
thus  suggested  in  the  very  length  and  structure 
of  the  Psalm,  is  expressly  stated  in  the  particular 
verse  which  is  our  text,  "  Thy  commandment  is 
exceeding  broad." 

Standing  as  we  do  to-day,  three  thousand  years 
beyond  the  point  of  David's  vision ;  possessing 
now  not  a  fragment  of  the  Old  Testament  but  the 
completed  canon  of  revelation,  the  glorious  gospel 
of  our  blessed  Saviour  ;  mindful  of  its  adaptation  to 
all  the  successive  changes  of  human  history  and  to 
all  the  hungerings  and  thirstings  of  the  individual 
man,  and  celebrating  even  now,  in  this  jubilee,*  all 
its  wondrous  triumphs  in  fifty  years  of  special 
progress  among  all   the  races  of  the  earth,  what 

*  This  sermon  was  preached  at  an  anniversary  meeting,  and  the 
reference  is  to  the  completion  of  a  half  century  of  the  work  of  the 
Hudson  County  Bible  Society. 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  243 

better  subject  can  engage  our  thought  than  this 
which  the  Psahnist  presents  to  us,  The  Broadness 
of  the  Bible. 

First.     The    Bible    is    exceeding    broad  in    its 

adaptations    to    the    human    intellect.      It   would 

seem    at    first    sight    that   a   book    which    is    so 

largely   occupied   with    the   fortunes    of    a   single 

people,    inhabiting    a   narrow    strip    of    territory, 

would  fail   in  universal  interest.     It  is  a  striking 

proof  of  the  inferiority  of  the  sacred  writings  of 

the    Mahometan   and    the    Hindoo   that   they   are 

adapted   only  to  their  own  latitude.     The   Koran 

has   no  power  except  among  the   nations   of  the 

desert.      The    Shaster     loses    its    mystic    charm 

beyond   the    limits    of    Hindostan.     So    with    the 

ancient    oracles.      They    were     local,    and    their 

influence  was  restricted  to  a  neighboring  tribe  or 

land.     The  Bible  addresses  itself  to  the  universal 

mind   of    man.      It    is    not   like    the    Koran,    the 

outgrowth  of  a  single  mind,  and  therefore  narrow 

and  monotonous.     It  is  the  production  of  no  less 

than    forty   inspired    writers   of    every    taste   and 

idiosyncrasy.     It  was  written  not  at  any  one  era, 

i\ugustan  or  Elizabethan,  but  in  all  stages  of  human 

development  during  a  period  of  two  thousand  years. 

It  is  not  confined  to  any  one  style  of  composition. 

It  was  penned   not  only  at   "sundry  times"  but 

"  in  divers  manners,"  and  includes  every  variety  of 


244  Sermons. 

topic,  thought,  and  language,  which  can  interest 
and  influence  mankind. 

The  history  of  the  Bible  affords  us  a  striking 
illustration.  It  is  the  history  of  the  world.  Like 
the  affable  Archangel  who  communed  with  Adam, 
it  leads  us  back  to  the  gray  twilight  of  earth's  first 
morning,  and  shows  us  the  origin  of  all  things.  It 
reveals  the  creation  of  the  world  from  chaos.  It 
treats  of  the  father  and  mother  from  whom  the 
whole  race  has  descended,  and  of  Eden,  their 
cradle  and  ancestral  home.  It  traces  the  genesis 
of  language,  the  institution  of  marriage,  the  fall, 
the  flood,  the  dispersion,  and  those  great  seminal 
events  which  belong  to  universal  history,  and  which 
are  still  preserved  in  distorted  remembrance  among 
the  traditions  of  all  nations,  classic  and  barbarian. 

And  when  we  descend  to  the  special  account  of 
the  Jewish  people,  even  here  we  have  not  simply 
the  story  of  the  Jews,  for  God  so  ordered  it  in  His 
providence  that  the  Hebrew  tree  struck  out  its 
roots  and  branches  far  and  wide,  and  had  vital 
connection  with  every  one  of  the  great  nations  of 
antiquity.  This  is  indicated  in  their  very  position 
upon  the  map  of  the  world.  They  stood  midway 
between  the  east  and  the  west.  The  great  sea 
opened  for  them  the  gates  of  sunset,  and  through 
their  northern  frontier  lay  the  track  of  the  caravan 
to   all   the   lands   of  the    morning.     The   fertility 


The  Broad^iess  of  the  Bible.  245 

of  Egypt  and  the  treasures  of  the  Mesopotamian 
dynasties  could  find  an  exchange  only  by  passing 
through  their  territory.  To  use  a  modern  phrase, 
Palestine  possessed  the  carrying  trade  of  the  world. 
Their  history  corresponded  with  their  cosmo- 
politan position.  For  a  period  twice  as  long  as  the 
duration  of  American  slavery,  they  were  bondmen 
in  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  in  the  book  of  Genesis 
we  gain  the  first  authentic  glimpses  of  the  great 
mother  of  empires.  To  the  Phoenicians,  whose 
galleys  carried  the  germs  of  Grecian  civilization, 
they  stood  in  the  relation  of  the  Normans  to  our 
own  Saxon  forefathers.  They  traded  and  fought 
with  the  countless  tribes  of  Arabia.  They  were 
for  a  time  a  satrapy  of  the  great  Assyrian  empire, 
whose  marble  bones  still  lie  buried  beneath  the 
mounds  of  the  Tigris.  For  seventy  years  of  sad 
captivity  their  existence  was  merged  into  that  of 
the  Babylonian  monarchy.  They  emerge  once 
more  as  an  independent  nationality  under  the 
auspices  of  Cyrus  and  Darius  —  names  resplendent 
on  the  scroll  of  profane  no  less  than  of  sacred 
history.  Their  fortunes  are  linked  with  the 
world-renowned  conquests  of  Alexander  the  Great. 
Their  decline  and  fall  is  a  portion  of  the  life  of  the 
Roman  empire,  chronicled  by  Tacitus  and  inscribed 
to  this  day  upon  the  triumphal  arch  of  Titus  in  the 
heart  of  the  eternal  city.     Thus  the  history  of  the 


246  Set'mans. 

Bible  is,  to  a  great  extent,  the  history  of  the  human 
race  during  the  progress  of  four  thousand  years. 
Of  those  earliest  times,  which  otherwise  were 
shrouded  only  in  wild  legends  and  dim  traditions, 
the  Bible  gives  us  authentic  information.  In  the 
subsequent  annals  it  is  of  the  highest  value  for 
illustration  and  confirmation.  It  is  the  Rosetta 
stone  which  unlocks  all  the  hieroglyphics  of 
ancient  fable.  And  thus  by  its  age,  by  its  truth, 
and  by  its  universal  range  of  vision,  the  Bible 
commends  itself  to  all  who,  in  any  land  or  age, 
are  interested  in  the  rise  and  progress  of  the 
human  race. 

The  same  comprehensiveness  is  characteristic 
of  the  poetry  of  the  Bible.  We  might  well  imagine 
that  an  eastern  flower  would  be  an  exotic  in  other 
lands,  and  that  if  transplanted  it  would  lose  its 
beauty  in  an  uncongenial  clime.  Lalla  Rookh 
would  have  no  meaning  in  Greenland,  and  Whit- 
tier's  sweet  idyl  of  the  Snow-bound  would  need  a 
double  interpretation  in  the  burning  deserts  of 
Arabia.  But  Grod  so  ordered  it,  that  the  land  which 
was  the  mold  of  the  poetic  imagery  of  the  Bible 
should  include,  within  its  narrow  compass,  all  the 
diverse  phenomena  of  the  natural  world.  The  cli- 
mate and  scenery  of  Palestine  are  cosmopolitan, 
and  in  this  respect  it  is  different  from  every  other  ^ 
country  of  the  globe.     Egypt  has  no  rains,  Meso- 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  247 

potamia  has  no  mountains,  Arabia  has  no  rivers, 
Persia  is  parched  by  continual  heat,  Scythia  is 
frozen  with  excessive  cold.  But  when  we  glance 
upon  the  map,  we  see  the  Holy  Land  as  Moses 
beheld  it  from  the  top  of  Pisgah,  a  land  of  lake's 
and  streams,  of  hills  and  vales  and  mountains. 
There  are  Tabor  and  Hermon,  Gilead  and  Carmel ; 
Lebanon,  with  his  shaggy  garment  of  cedars  and  his 
eternal  crown  of  snow.  There  are  Merom  and  Ti- 
berius and  the  Dead  Sea.  There  are  the  Arnon  and 
Jabbok,  the  swift  rushing  Kishon,  and  Jordan  rolling 
to  its  mysterious  grave.  There  are  the  maritime 
plain  and  the  great  plain  of  Esdraelon.  There  is 
beyond  these  the  great  and  wide  sea,  with  its 
ships  and  islands,  its  monsters,  its  creeping  things 
innumerable  and  the  roar  of  its  stormy  waves. 

Owing  to  this  great  variety  of  level  and  configu- 
ration, Palestine  had  every  variety  of  climate.  Ii 
the  sun  broke  fiercely  upon  the  husbandman  at 
midday,  the  night  brought  the  refreshing  cold.  It 
at  times  the  land  was  hard  with  drought,  it  had  the 
early  and  the  latter  rain.  The  people  were  familiar 
with  the  meteorology  of  all  the  zones.  They  had 
snow  and  frost,  dew  and  ice,  fogs  and  thunder  and 
lightning.  Hence  the  imagery  of  the  sacred  poets 
appeals  to  the  imagination  of  the  western  nations 
no  less  than  to  those  of  the  east.  And  hence  amid 
the    mists    of   the    Highlands,   the    mountains    of 


248  Sermons. 

Switzerland,  the  streams  of  New  England  and  on 
the  prairies  of  the  Mississippi :  wherever  the  voice 
of  the  Lord  thunders  marvelously,  wherever  the 
hoar-frost  Hes  Hke  ashes  or  the  ice  is  cast  forth  like 
morsels,  wherever  there  is  fire  and  hail,  snow  and 
vapor  and  stormy  wind  fulfilling  his  word,  there  the 
poetry  of  the  Bible  speaks  in  the  vernacular  of  the 
magination  and  clothes  our  "  palpable  and  familiar 
things  in  golden  exhalations  of  the  dawn." 

We  might  pause  here  to  speak  of  another  pecul- 
iarity of  the  Hebrew  poetry  which  distinguishes  it 
from  that  of  all  other  nations.  The  poetry  of  the 
sacred  writers  does  not  depend  for  its  beauty  upon 
meter  or  rhyme  which  cannot  be  reproduced,  but 
upon  the  thought  itself;  upon  an  antithesis  or  a  vari- 
ation of  the  original  idea,  in  what  is  called  di  paral- 
lelism, which  can  be  translated  into  English  or 
French  or  Arabic  or  any  other  language  of  man- 
kind without  diminution  of  its  original  charm  or 
force.  It  is  not  so  with  any  other  book.  But, 
merely  glancing  at  this,  we  must  pass  on  to  speak 
of  the  science  of  the  Bible.  This  too  is  popular 
and  universal  in  its  adaptations. 

If  the  Bible  had  been  intended  only  for  the  pre- 
sent generation  '*when  the  thoughts  of  men  are 
widened  by  the  process  of  the  suns,"  if  it  had  been 
designed  only  for  our  own  country  where,  in  an 
especial  manner,  ''  men  run  to  and  fro  and  know- 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  1\C) 

ledge  is  increased,"  the  language  of  the  Bible  might 
have  been  as  strictly  scientific  as  Miller  or  Mitchell 
could  desire.  The  Mosaic  record  of  creation  mighs 
have  been  like  the  chart  of  the  geologist,  minutely 
describing  all  the  oscillations  and  cataclysms  of  the 
primeval  ages.  We  should  have  had  the  regular 
development  of  Protozoic,  Mesozoic  and  Cenozoic 
life.  We  should  have  had  pictures  of  the  gigantic 
ferns  of  the  carboniferous  flora,  and  of  the  wierd 
shapes  of  Saurian  and  Batrachian  monsters  which, 
flying,  shadowed  the  air  ;  or,  swimming,  tempested 
the  billows  of  the  Preadamic  deep. 

If  the  Bible  had  been  intended  only  for  the  age 
of  the  telescope  and  the  transit  instrument,  we 
should  have  had,  instead  of  popular  description  and 
scattered  allusion,  a  complete  astronomic  system. 
We  might  have  had  as  illustrations  of  the  wondrous 
majesty  of  Jehovah,  the  doctrine  of  gravitation,  the 
periodicity  of  comets,  the  precession  of  the  equi- 
noxes, the  velocity  of  light.  But  the  Bible  is  the 
book  not  of  a  single  generation,  but  of  all  time.  It 
must  be  adapted  to  infancy  and  rudeness  as  well  as 
to  refinement  and  illumination.  It  must  be  adapted 
to  ages  of  ignorance  and  darkness,  ere  yet  man  hat 
learned  to  climb  to  the  abstractions  of  science  and 
the  generalizations  of  philosophy.  If  all  the  truths 
of  modern  discovery  had  been  incorporated  into  the 
early  scriptures  before  the  world  was  ready  for  their 


250  SermoHS. 

reception,  all  those  first  generations  woiild  have 
regarded  such  a  revelation  as  a  falsehood  and  a 
fable.  They  would  have  rejected  them  with  the 
same  incredulity  we  give  to  heathen  systems  ot 
cosmogony  which  set  the  earth  on  the  back  of  a 
tortoise,  or  develope  the  universe  from  the  ^gg 
of  a  bird.  Therefore,  while  there  is  no  self-con- 
tradiction in  the  work  of  God,  whether  in  His 
word  or  in  His  world  ;  while  His  scripture  in- 
spires the  prayer  of  Kepler  and  smiles  on  Galileo 
in  his  dungeon,  or  allures  the  feet  of  Mitchell 
on  his  majestic  errand  through  the  stars,  it  still 
uses  that  familiar  and  popular  language  which 
is  current  in  all  lands  and  ages,  just  such  as 
astronomers  themselves  use  in  ordinary  speech ; 
and  this  simply  because  the  broad  word  of  God 
is  not  meant  expressly  for  esoteric  coteries  and 
scientific  associations,  but  for  all  men,  in  all  stages 
of  mental  illumination,  from  the  beginning  of  time 
to  the  end  of  it. 

But  we  pass  from  these  general  considerations, 
to  speak  of  the  adaptation  of  the  Bible  to  every 
individual  taste  and  capacity.  Plants  have  their 
special  habitat.  Animals  are  confined  to  single 
zones.  Man  only  is  cosmopolitan.  His  relish  for 
food  varies  with  his  situation.  Here  he  lives  on 
rice,  here  in  the  tropics  upon  fruit,  and  here  in  the 
arctic   regions  upon  oil.     In   temperate   zones   he 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  2<^\ 

enjoys  all  diversities  of  diet.  There  is  a  similar 
variety  in  taste  and  capacity  for  intellectual  food. 
Between  the  child,  just  learning  to  spell  the  nursery 
tale,  and  the  myriad-minded  Shakespeare,  touching 
life  at  every  point  as  if  he  were  a  thousand  men, 
what  a  vast  gamut  of  diversities  }  They  are  innu- 
merable as  the  expressions  of  the  human  counte- 
nance. How  great  the  problem  to  find  one  book 
which  shall  satisfy  them  all !  But  the  Bible  solves 
the  problem.  Do  you  delight  in  history  }  We  have 
seen  that  the  Bible  is  the  authentic  record  of  the 
human  race.  Do  you  turn  from  the  generaliza- 
tion of  the  historian,  and  love  the  study  of  character 
and  the  portraiture  of  individual  men  }  The  Bible 
is  a  great  gallery  in  which  we  see  every  type  of 
manhood  and  every  shade  of  expression,  painted  as 
they  are,  in  every  variety  of  human  experience.  Do 
you  ponder  the  problem  of  natural  religion  !  In 
the  book  of  Job  you  can  find  every  question  dis- 
cussed and  answered.  Do  you  prefer  the  intrica- 
cies of  metaphysics  t  In  the  argumentation  of 
Paul  you  will  find  enough  to  tax  your  inmost 
thought.  Are  you  charmed  with  simple  narrative } 
There  is  the  sweet  story  of  Joseph  incorporated 
into  the  earliest  remembrances,^^nd  !6vS'dij»|iigre- 
ever  there  are  children's  voices  throughout  the 
world.  Are  you  endowed  with  an  appreciation  of 
the  humorous  t     There  is  the  grotesque  story  of 


252  Sermon^. 

the  Gibeonites  with  their  mouldy  bread  and  clouted 
shoes  ;  the  jovial  pranks  and  riddles  of  the  giant 
Sampson  ;  and  the  half-shaved  ambassadors  tarry- 
ing  at   Jericho   for  the   growth    of    their   beards. 
Would  you  travel  in  the  company  of  the  immortal 
dreamer  of  Elstow  ?     There  is  the  apologue  of  the 
bramble  and  the  trees,  the  earliest  of  fables.     There 
is  the  wonderful  parable  of  the  traveler  and  the  ewe 
lamb.     There  is  the  good  Samaritan  and  the  Prod- 
igal son,   and   all   the  masterpieces  of   our  Lord. 
Do  you  feel  the  spell  of  eloquence  .■*     Read  Paul's 
defence  before  King  Agrippa.     Do  you  ask  for  the 
sententious  and  the  practical  }    There  are  the  prov- 
erbs  of   Solomon,  which,  like    coins   of  gold,   are 
current  among  all  men  as  the  compactest  utterances 
of  wisdom.     Do  you  seek  for  the  expression  of  the 
exalted   and    the    beautiful    in    nature   and    in   the 
human  heart }     There  is  more  poetry  in  the  Bible 
than  in  all  other  books.     Where  is  there  a  drama 
like  the  book  of  Job  .?     or  an  elegiac  like  the  Lam- 
e^ntations  }  or  a  pastoral  like  the  book  of  Ruth  .? 
or  lyrics  like  the  Song  of  Moses  and  the  Psalms  01 
David  .?    or  any  epic  comparable  in  grandeur  with 
the  consummation  of  the  Apocalypse  .?     If  we  do 
not  always  have  the  form,  we  have  the  very  elements 
of  poetry.     The  Bible  is  the  great  storehouse  from 
which    Dante   and    Milton,  with  their  train,  have 
drawn   their   sublimest   inspirations.     It   is   one  of 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  253 

the  four  books  which  stood  upon  the  table  of  Byron. 
Its  descriptions  of  the  heavenly  world  Burns  could 
never  read  without  a  burst  of  tears. 

Take  then  the  whole  gauge  of  the  human  mind, 
from  the  first  development  of  childhood  to  man- 
hood's serenest  wisdom  ;  take  every  gradation   of 
intellect  from  the  untutored   savage  to  the  almost 
inspired  genius  of   Newton  ;  take   every  phase  of 
civilization,  ancient  and  modern,  oriental  and  occi- 
dental ;  take  the  whole  boundless  range  of  human 
character  with   all  its  sympathies,  susceptibilities, 
and  idiosyncracies,  in  all  tribes  and  tongues  ;  and 
the  Bible  has  a  charm  for  all.     Just  as  God  set  His 
sun  in  the  heavens  to  march  in  bridal  glory  through 
the  whole  circuit  of  the  firmament,  dispensing  life 
to  every  creature  small  and  great,  on  land  and  in 
sea,  through  all  longitudes  and  zones,  from  pole  to 
pole,  so  has  He  adapted  His  Bible  to  all  the  intel- 
lectual   wants    of  every   son  of  Adam.     There    is 
no  speech  nor  language  where  its  voice  is  not  heard. 
Its  line    has  gone  out  into  all  the  earth,  and  its 
words  to  the  end  of  the  world. 

Second.  The  Bible  is  exceeding  broad  in  its 
adaptations  to  man's  social  nature. 

The  emblem  of  mankind  is  not  the  palm  with  its 
single  spire  of  green,  but  the  banyan  with  its  inter- 
twining roots  and  trunks  and  branches.  The  law 
of  man's  creation  necessitates  society,  and  society 


254  Sermons. 

involves  law.  This  is  the  universal  bond  of  cohe^ 
sion  in  heaven  and  earth.  And  this  the  Bible  recog- 
nizes. The  Bible  is  not  simply  a  history,  or  a  proph- 
ecy, or  a  revelation  of  love.  It  is  a  law  to  govern 
human  action.  It  is  God's  commandment ^  which  the 
Psalmist  declares  to  be  exceeding  broad.  In  the 
Mosaic  code  there  is  much  which  is  transient  and  in- 
cidental, and  which  was  so  regarded  by  the  lawgiver. 
But  the  Decalogue  was  given  with  wondrous  displays 
of  the  Divine  Majesty,  and  engraven  upon  the  living 
rock  in  token  of  its  perpetual  and  universal  obliga- 
tion. Always  and  everywhere  it  is  wrong  to  mur- 
der. Always  and  everywhere  it  is  wrong  to  steal. 
Always  and  everywhere  it  is  wrong  to  violate  the 
marriage  vow.  These  commandments  are  the  gran- 
itic basis  on  which  every  temple  of  justice  must  be 
erected.  Accordingly  we  find  that  the  English  law, 
including  our  own,  which  is  the  noblest  growth  of 
civilization  and  best  adapted  to  secure  the  rights  of 
the  citizen  in  all  the  present  and  prospective  com- 
plications of  social  interests,  is  recognized  by  all 
the  judicial  authorities  as  the  gradual  and  normal 
evolution  of  the  decalogue  with  its  Christian  inter- 
pretation. The  Bible  stands  to  all  the  codes  of  the 
world  in  the  relation  of  our  own  constitution  to  the 
laws  of  the  individual  states.  They  have  their 
special  and  local  enactments,  but  all  must  harmonize 
with  the  fundamental  principles  contained  in  the 
organic  law  of  the  one  and  indivisible  nation. 


*lhe  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  255 

But  back  of  law  there  must  be  a  natural  charac- 
ter. There  must  be  intelligence  to  discern  the 
deflection  of  law  in  the  interest  of  ambition  and 
selfishness.  There  must  be  righteousness  to  keep 
the  law  itself  right.  We  cannot  stop  here  to  show 
how  the  Bible  secures  the  education  of  the  people. 
This  is  indicated  in  what  has  been  said  of  its  intel- 
lectual adaptations.  The  fact  is  clear  that  in  lands 
destitute  of  the  Bible  the  inhabitants  are  proverb- 
ially ignorant  and  degraded  ;  and  that  where  the 
Bible  is  most  read  and  prized,  as  in  England  and 
America,  we  find  the  highest  type  of  national  pros- 
perity. Whether  we  contrast  ancient  times  with 
modern,  heathen  nations  with  Christian,  or  Catholic 
districts  with  Protestanr,  we  find  everywhere  the 
verification  of  the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  "The 
entrance  of  thy  words  giveth  light." 

But  the  fate  of  an  enlightened  nation  will  depend 
upon  the  right  uses  of  its  knowledge..  A  bad  nation 
is  a  weak  and  miserable  nation,  just  as  a  bad  man, 
however  gifted,  is  a  weak  and  miserable  man. 
Therefore  it  is  that  the  Bible  enunciates  as  the 
great  charter  of  national  life,  the  elemental  necessity 
of  righteousness.  To  one  and  all  of  the  kingdoms 
it  exclaims,  "  Be  ye  holy  and  live ;  be  ye  iniquitous 
and  die."  And  this  not  merely  in  the  general.  We 
have  in  the  history  of  the  Jews  a  chart  of  every 
reef  and  shoal  upon  which  a  nation  can  founder. 


256  Sermons.  ' 

The  great  sin  of  our  country  has  been  the 
oppression  of  our  brethren  by  the  institution  ot 
slavery.  Ths  Bible  thunders  and  lightens  against 
oppression.  We  are  in  danger  of  persisting  in  that 
spirit  of  caste  which  is  essentially  heathen,  and 
opposed  to  all  homogeneous  and  organic  life.  The 
Bible  declares  the  equal  sacredness  of  every  man 
whom  God  has  created.  It  sums  up  in  a  single  line 
the  whole  philosophy  of  reconstruction,  "  Love  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself."  One  besetting  sin  is  the 
intense  eagerness  for  the  rapid  accumulation  of 
wealth.  The  Bible  utters  its  solemn  warning 
against  covetousness.  Of  the  speculator  it  says, 
"Cursed  be  he  that  withholdeth  the  corn."  Of  the 
corrupt  legislator,  it  says:  "He  that  receiveth 
bribes  overthroweth  the  land."  Of  all  the  various 
forms  of  national  trangression — pride,  luxury,  in- 
temperance, profanity  and  Sabbath  desecration, 
which  as  surely  ruin  a  nation  as  the  rot  ruins  a 
ship,  the  Bible  shows  us  the  danger  and  the  remedy. 
These  truths  are  as  applicable  to  us  as  they  were  to 
Babylon  and  Jerusalem.  They  are  as  applicable  to 
China  and  Turkey  as  they  are  to  us.  When  the 
African  prince,  who  had  heard  the  fame  of  England, 
sent  to  the  queen  to  learn  the  secret  of  her  great- 
ness, she  sent  him  back  a  copy  of  the  English 
Bible.  When  the  Italians  were  heaving  in  political 
convulsion   like    the    fabled    giant    beneath   their 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  257 

ancient  mountain,  Garibaldi  declared  that  the  Bible 
was  the  cannon  which  was  to  liberate  Italy.  It 
matters  not  what  may  be  the  form  of  goverment, 
the  stage  of  improvement,  the  genius  of  the  people, 
or  the  crisis  of  their  history,  the  Bible  is  their 
constitution  and  contains  the  secret  of  their  national 
existence. 

When  our  civil  war  broke  out,  we  were  astonished 
at  the  new  meaning  which  broke  forth  from  the 
sacred  text.  We  read  the  record  of  Joshua  and  of 
the  warriors  who  fought  after  him,  as  if  it  had  been 
a  chronicle  of  our  own  times.  As  we  followed  the 
story  of  its  battles  and  sieges,  its  reverses  and 
deliverances,  we  thought  we  never  had  read  the 
Bible  before.  The  imprecatory  Psalms  in  which 
David  prays  for  the  destruction  of  his  enemies,  and 
which  once  seemed  the  unworthy  expression  of  an 
obsolete  revenge,  became  the  mouth-piece  of  our 
own  devotion.  We  read  as  we  looked  southward  and 
said,  "  Let  God  arise  and  let  his  enemies  be  scat- 
tered." Even  in  all  the  minutiae  of  the  struggle,  the 
Bible  seemed  to  keep  pace  with  us,  and  present  us 
with  a  text  appropriate  for  every  emergency. 
When  South  Carolina  seceded  we  read,  "  Rebellion 
is  as  the  sin  of  witchcraft."  When  the  rebellion 
was  organized  we  read,  "  Say  ye  not  a  confederacy 
to  all  those  to  whom  this  people  shall  say  a  con- 
federacy, neither  fear  ye  their  fear  nor  be  afraid." 


25  B  Sermons. 

When  the  people  rose  as  one  man,  at  the  cannon 
burst  of  Sumter,  to  defend  the  capital  and  die  for 
their  native  land,  we  read  with  exultation,  "  Praise 
ye  the  Lord  for  the  avenging  of  Israel  in  the  day 
when  the  people  willingly  offered  themselves." 
When  the  hour  of  distress  and  darkness  came,  we 
read  with  Luther  the  forty-sixth  Psalm.  When  on 
our  national  anniversary  the  tidings  came  of  a 
double  mercy  by  the  capture  of  the  stronghold  of 
Vicksburg  and  the  crowning  victory  at  Gettysburg, 
we  cried  out,  "For  by  Thee  I  have  run  through  a 
troop,  and  by  my  God  have  I  leaped  over  a  wall." 
When  the  Christian  Commission  sent  down  its 
delegates  to  the  soldiers  with  a  thanksgiving  din- 
ner, we  turned  to  the  place  where  David  goes  down 
to  the  camp  with  a  present  of  parched  corn  and 
cheeses  for  his  brethren.  When  the  good  President 
issued  the  Emancipation  Proclamation,  we  heard 
the  divine  voice  saying,  "Proclaim  liberty  through- 
out all  the  land  to  all  the  inhabitants  thereof" 
When  the  slaves  gained  their  freedom,  they  sang, 
in  a  rude  version,  the  old  chant  of  the  Israelites 
when  they  were  delivered  from  their  oppressors  at 
the  Red  Sea.  And  when  at  last,  just  as  the  fruition 
was  near,  the  good  President  was  taken  away 
from  us  by  the  hand  of  the  assassin,  in  scores  of 
pulpits  the  preacher  turned  with  tearful  eyes  to  the 
narrative  of  the  death  of  Moses,  on  the  top  of 
Pisgah,  within  sight  of  the  Promised  Land. 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  259 

A  book,  then,  which  is  so  multiform,  so  ready,  so 
fresh,  so  apt,  so  vivid  in  all  its  illustrations  and 
adaptations,  is  not  for  one  nation  but. for  all  nations. 
It  is  not  for  one  time  but  for  all  time.  It  is  not 
effete.  It  never  can  grow  old.  It  is  a  tree  of  life 
whose  seed  is  in  itself  It  is  a  royal  gem  emitting 
new  splendors  at  every  glance  of  light.  It  is  a 
great  river,  deepening  and  broadening  in  majesty 
as  it  rolls  along  the  centuries.  Like  tears  and 
laughter,  its  voice  is  understood  in  every  age  and 
clime.  Its  neck  is  as  the  tower  of  David,  builded 
for  an  armory,  whereon  there  hang  a  thousand 
bucklers,  all  shields  of  mighty  men. 

Third.  We  observe  in  the  third  place  that  the 
Bible  is  exceedingly  broad  in  its  adaptation  to 
man's  spiritual  nature. 

The  heathen  idea  of  religion  recognizes  only  a  se- 
lect, esoteric  circle,  who  are  privileged  with  initiation 
into  its  mysteries.  This  is  the  Romanist  idea  of 
saintship.  The  Bible  idea  is  that  of  the  salvable- 
ness  of  all  men  and  the  sanctity  of  the  entire  congre- 
gation. This  is  the  conception  of  the  Old  Testament 
as  well  as  of  the  New.  Among  the  Hebrews  there  is 
no  limitation  of  caste  ;  as  has  been  finely  said,  the 
prophetic  gift  burst  forth  everywhere  like  the  springs 
of  their  native  land.  There  is  no  limit  of  nation. 
The  Jews  were  the  chosen  people,  but  the  Bible 
reaches  over  into  Idumea  and  Mesopotamia,  and  in- 


26o  Sermons. 

-troduces  as  the  subjects  of  inspiration  or  the  objects 
of  mercy,  Job,  Melchisedek,  Balaam,  Sardanapalus, 
and  the  exceeding  great  city  of  Nineveh.  There 
is  no  limit  of  age — Abraham  received  his  call  as  an 
old  man  and  Samuel  as  a  child.  There  is  no 
restriction  of  sex.  Women,  in  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity, emerge  from  oriental  seclusion  and  strike 
the  timbrels  of  salvation  or  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus. 

It  is  the  glory  of  the  Bible  that  it  is  thus  adapted 
to  all  spiritual  characters  and  conditions.  Just  as 
our  American  system  of  government  is  framed  for 
the  benefit  of  all  the  people,  so  the  Bible  seeks  all 
men  with  its  heavenly  gifts.  Sin  is  a  universal 
fact.  Salvation  is  a  universal  necessity.  Therefore 
the  Bible  plies  those  motives  which  are  of  universal 
potency.  The  three  great  levers  which  move  the 
spiritual  world  are  fear,  hope,  and  love. 

The  great  principle  which  holds  society  together 
is  fear  and  penalty.  Take  away  this  restraint  and 
you  have  riot  and  anarchy.  So  the  Bible  holds  up 
God's  moral  law  and  warns  men  of  the  fearful  con- 
sequences of  its  violation,  "tribulation  and  anguish 
upon  every  soul  of  man  that  doeth  evil."  It  pre- 
sents countless  examples  of  actual  punishment.  It 
scares  us  with  the  tempestuous  horrors  of  the 
deluge.  It  flares  its  beacon  from  the  smoking  cities 
of  the  plain.  It  makes  the  awful  destruction  of  the 
sacred  city  a  type  of  the  final  judgment.^  It  appeals 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  261 

to  men  by  the  terrors  of  God,  by  the  dread  sum- 
mons of  the  archangel,  and  by  the  pangs  of  hell, 
to  escape  the  swift  pursuit  of  retribution  and  seek 
salvation  in  Jesus.  Even  those  who  deny  the  truth 
of  the  Scripture  doctrines,  admit  their  adaptation 
to  the  needs  of  the  common  people,  and  preach 
them  accordingly. 

Hope  comes  in  as  an  element  not  recognized  by 
human  law.  Hope  is  the  angel  who  allures  us  on 
through  all  toil  and  suffering  to  the  promised  goal. 
It  whispered  to  Milton  of  Paradise  Lost,  and  to 
Columbus  of  a  world's  discovery.  It  smiles  on  the 
sick  man  and  ministers  his  draught.  It  visits  the 
slave  and  cheers  him  with  a  promise  of  the  year  of 
jubilee.  It  is  the  great  impulse  of  the  race,  as  it 
climbs  the  Alps  of  progress  and  shouts  excelsior 
from  height  to  height.  While  there  is  life  there  is 
hope,  and  where  there  is  hope  there  is  life. 

To  this  instinct  the  Bible  makes  its  appeal 
as  does  no  other  book.  It  holds  out  prizes 
beyond  all  human  attainment.  It  offers  Heaven 
and  eternity  to  earth  and  time.  For  the  home- 
less there  is  a  house  not  made  with  hands  and 
an  inheritance  incorruptible ;  for  the  friendless 
there  is  the  ministry  of  angels  and  the  sympathy 
of  Jesus ;  for  the  penniless  there  are  celestial 
treasures  of  which  gold  and  pearls  are  only  em- 
blems ;  for  the  sick  and  dying   there   is   a  body 


262  Sermons. 

like  the  immortal  body  of  the  ascended  Saviour  ; 
for  the  bereaved  there  is  eternal  reunion  with 
the  loved  and  lost ;  for  the  ignorant  there  is 
knowledge  even  as  we  are  known  of  God ;  for 
the  imperfect  and  sinful  there  is  purity  like  the 
great  river  of  crystal ;  for  all  that  are  in  any 
trouble  there  is  the  vision  of  the  day  when  the 
Lord  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  off  all 
faces. 

But  the  deepest  and  most  vital  principle  of 
the  soul  is  love.  This  exists  wherever  is  repeated 
the  world's  first  kiss  in  Eden ;  wherever  the 
voice  of  a  little  child  is  heard  ;  wherever  in  any 
language  the  air  is  musical  with  the  words 
mother,  wife,  and  home.  For  love,  men  will  do 
what  they  will  not  for  fear  or  hope.  Just  as 
the  forests  seal  up  all  their  seeds  and  the 
flowers  tighten  their  petals  while  winter  is 
boisterous,  but  open  their  treasures  of  life  to 
the  blandishments  of  April  and  the  dews  of 
May,  so  there  is  a  quality  in  love  which  pierces 
the  envelopments  even  of  rude  and  savage 
natures.  Love  sits  in  holy  watch  beside  the 
cradle.  It  dares  the  storm  and  the  battle.  It 
twines  like  the  tendrils  of  summer  around 
dungeons  and  ruins.  It  ascends  the  scaffold 
and   the   cross. 

This   most    influential    motive    is    used    in   its 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  263 

fullest  efficiency  only  in  the  Bible.  It  points 
us  to  the  life  and  death  of  the  incarnate  Saviour 
and  exclaims  ''  Herein  is  love  !  "  The  highest 
possible  proof  of  devotion  is  death  for  the  loved 
one ;  and  here  is  death,  tragic  death.  The  heroes 
of  love  die  only  for  kindred  and  friends.  Here 
is  death  for  the  men  who  wag  their  heads  in 
mockery  at  the  dying  One  ;  death  for  those  who 
stab  Him  with  their  spear.  Men  die  only  for 
men.  But  here  the  infinite  and  eternal  God 
empties  Himself  to  die  for  His  dust-made 
creatures  on  a  speck  of  His  creation  ;  as  if  the 
noblest  of  the  race  should  stoop  to  mortal  agony 
for  the    sake   of  a   bird  or   a   worm. 

Therefore,  it  is  in  this  stupendous  truth  of 
the  vicarious  sacrifice  of  Him  whose  name  is 
Love,  that  we  find  the  attractive  power  which 
constrains  all  men  and  nations  to  assume  the 
cross.  Therefore  it  is  that  the  untutored  heathen 
cries  out  to  the  missionary  who  lands  upon  his 
shores,  Give  me  the  Bible  I  Give  me  the  book 
that  says  "  God  so  loved  the  world."  As  Christ 
Himself  is  not  the  son  of  Asia  nor  of  Europe, 
but  the  Son  of  Man,  stretching  out  His  arms 
wide  upon  the  cross  to  include  all  in  whose 
veins  runs  Adam's  blood,  so  the  Bible  is  the 
Book  of  Man.  Wherever  man  exists  on  land  or 
island,    amid    Greenland's   icy   mountains   or    on 


264  Sermons. 

India's  coral  strand,  there  the  Bible  meets  him 
in  the  sanctuary  of  love  and  finds  him  with  the 
wondrous    story   of  the  cross. 

But  the  Bible  is  adapted  to  man  not  only 
as  a  sinner,  but  as  a  Christian  seeking  sancti- 
fication  though   the    Spirit. 

The  most  popular  and  universal  of  unin- 
spired books  is  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  But  all 
its  power  to  charm  and  bless  is  borrowed  from 
the  Bible.  The  characters  of  the  Bible,  though 
not  imaginary,  are  typical  and  representative 
like  those  of  the  immortal  allegory.  They  are 
made  up  of  good  and  evil.  They  are  men  of 
like  passions  with  ourselves.  Therefore  reading 
their  lives  is,  in  some  sense,  like  reading  our 
own  biography.  We  behold  there  all  the  joys 
and  sorrows,  doubts  and  fears,  struggles  and 
triumphs  of  the  Christian  life.  Therefore  the 
biographies  of  the  Bible,  the  story  of  patient 
Job  and  stainless  Joseph,  of  faithful  Abraham 
and  prayerful  Elijah,  of  tempted  David  and 
dauntless  Daniel,  and  of  all  the  worthies  of  the 
New  Testament,  are  an  endless  source  of  edi- 
fication   and    of  sanctification   to   the   church. 

The  gospels  themselves,  containing,  as  they 
do,  the  temptations,  griefs,  friendships,  sorrows, 
prayers  and  sacrifices  of  the  all-perfect  One, 
have  an  adaptation  to  the  soul  as  broad  as  the 
salvation   which   He  brings. 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  265 

A  large  portion  of  the  New  Testament  is 
occupied  with  letters.  They  are  addressed  to 
the  Christians  of  Rome,  Corinth,  and  other 
ancient  cities.  But  not  to  them  alone.  It  is 
supposed  that  they  were  at  first  encyclical  in 
their  character,  designed  to  be  read  not  only 
by  the  individual  church,  to  which  each  one 
was  addressed,  but  by  the  whole  circle  of 
the  neighboring  churches.  And  not  only 
were  they  written  for  these,  but  the  greeting 
comes  to  all  who  call  upon  the  name  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  both  theirs  and  ours.  What  is  true 
of  the  New  Testament  is  true  also  of  the  types 
and  shadows  of  the  Old  Testament.  Some 
Christians  are  of  the  opinion  that  little  profit 
is  to  be  gained  from  such  books  as  Leviticus, 
and  Numbers,  and  Deuteronomy.  But,  on  the 
contrary,  there  are  no  books  which  have  a  wider 
signification.  Here  we  find  the  gospel  in  its 
germ,  its  outline.  If  I  may  so  speak,  the  Pen- 
tateuch is  the  negative  of  the  photograph  of 
Christ.  Take  for  example  the  law  concerning 
leprosy,  as  an  exhibition  of  moral  defilement. 
Nothing  can  more  impress  the  mind  with  the 
loathsomeness  and  danger  of  sin  ;  and  the  mode 
of  cleansing  by  the  blood  and  the  oil,  points 
us  directly  to  the  atonement  of  Christ  and 
sanctification   of  the  Spirit.      In  this   way  every 


266  Sermons. 

holocaust  and  every  offering,  even  to  the  handful 
of  meal  and  the  two  small  pigeons,  had  an  in- 
timate and  divine  connection  with  all  that  is 
most  precious  in  the  gospel.  As  has  been 
quaintly  said,  even  the  axe  which  Elisha  caused 
to  swim  is  made  of  use  by  the  Spirit  to  hew 
out   the   cross  of  Calvary. 

Whatever  then  may  be  the  peculiar  mood  or 
crisis  of  his  experience,  the  Christian  will  find 
in  the  sacred  word  all  that  is  needful  for  reproof, 
for  exhortation,  for  correction,  and  for  instruction 
in  righteousness.  Is  he  sorrowful  ?  The  book 
of  Job,  the  earliest  of  the  scriptures,  seems  to 
have  been  written  at  the  beginning,  that  it 
might  be  the  solace  of  the  afflicted  in  all  gener- 
ations of  time.  Is  he  despondent  ?  There  is 
the  vision  of  God  to  Elijah  in  the  wilderness. 
Is  he  called  to  pass  through  persecution  in  the 
kingdom  and  patience  of  Jesus  t  There  is  the 
apocalypse  with  its  golden  crowns.  Is  he  en- 
gaged in  signal  service  for  the  Master }  There 
are  the  glorious  forms  of  the  apostles  beckoning 
to  him  from  the  heights.  Is  he  troubled  because 
his  talent  is  so  small  ?  There  is  the  sweet  as- 
surance to  Mary,  going  with  the  gospel  round 
and  round  the  world.  Is  he  in  strenuous  con- 
flict with  the  fleshly  man  t  There  is  the  promise, 
He  will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  thee.     Is 


TJie  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  267 

he  exultant  over  the  body  of  death  vanquished 
and  slain  ?  There  is  the  triumphal  ascription, 
Thanks  be  unto  God  which  giveth  us  the  victory 
through  our   Lord   Jesus    Christ. 

My  friends,  this  is  no  empty  declamation.  The 
truth  of  all  this  has  been  proven  by  the  ex- 
perience of  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
Christians.  If  we  could  gather  together  all  the 
Bibles,  the  modern  editions,  and  the  manuscripts 
which  were  the  companions  of  saints  before  the 
invention  of  printing,  and  see  the  passages  which 
they  have  illuminated  with  their  tears,  we  should 
have  a  conception  of  the  adaptation  of  the  re- 
vealed word  to  the  universal  heart  of  the  church, 
which  would  flood  every  line  with  light.  Here 
is  a  precious  exhortation  which  sustained  the 
hearts  of  Perpetua  and  Felecitas  when  they  went 
forth  from  the  dungeon  to  the  wild  ox  and  the 
gladiator's  dagger.  Here  is  a  verse  in  Romans 
which  spoke  peace  to  the  mighty  heart  of  Au- 
gustine when  weeping  in  the  garden  of  Milan. 
Here  is  a  word  of  faith  which  broke  like  a  new 
revelation  upon  Luther  as  he  was  climbing  the 
sacred  stairs  at  Rome  upon  his  knees.  Here 
is  the  verse  in  Hebrews  which  unlocked  all  the 
wards  of  Doubting  Castle  for  the  rejoicing  feet 
of  Bunyan.  Here  is  the  passage  in  Revelation 
which   Perronet  shewed  in  triumph  by  the  grave 


268  Sermons. 

of  the  last  of  his  kindred.  Here  is  the  ex- 
clamation of  Jesus  upon  the  cross  which  quenched 
the  thirst  of  Whitefield.  Here  is  the  doxology 
in  which  Edwards  for  the  first  time  "  found 
inward  and  sweet  delight."  And  here  are  the 
words  which  caught  the  restless  eye  of  Hedley 
Vicars  on  the  table  of  the  mess-room,  and  which 
inspired  him  to  become  a  good  soldier  in  the 
army  of  the   cross. 

But  the  time  would  fail  me  to  tell  even  the 
briefest  portion  of  those  scriptures,  verses,  and 
whole  chapters,  which  have  been  the  comfort, 
the  strength,  and  the  salvation  of  all  the  gener- 
ations of  the  church.  Are  there  not,  in  your 
own  remembrance,  echoes  of  gracious  words 
which  are  sweeter  than  the  tones  of  any  earthly 
love }  Sacred  sentences,  which,  like  the  sound 
of  the  trumpet,  summoned  you  to  immortality  ? 
Chapters  which  were  plethoric  with  the  fullness 
of  God  when  you  were  yearning  for  the  Spirit 
of  adoption }  Promises  that  lingered  in  your  ear 
with  a  strain  of  heavenly  consolation  when  they 
were  read  by  the  solemn  coffin  bed  of  those 
whom  your  eyes  should  never  behold  again  on 
earth  ">  Men  said  of  Goethe,  he  was  so  immense 
that,  as  every  man  could  go  out  into  the  falling 
rain  and  catch  some  drops  of  its  boundlessness 
in  his  hand,  so  every  one,  ol  every  calibre,  could 


The  Bfoadness  of  the  Bible.  269 

turn  to  his  great  genius,  and  appropriating  some 
special  portion  to  his  need,  could  each  one  say, 
"  This  is  my  Goethe  !"  And  even  thus  can  every 
child  of  God,  whatever  the  size  or  nature  of  his 
spiritual  need,  take  his  handful  from  the  mighty 
book  and  exclaim  with  tears  of  thanksgiving, 
This  is   my   Bible  I 

"  Holy  Bible,  Book  divine, 
Precious  treasure,  thou  art  mine." 

O  this  Bible  is  too  wonderful  for  us  I  It  is 
high  as  heaven.  It  is  wide  as  earth.  It  is  deep 
as  the  inmost  need  of  man.  It  is  vast  as  God. 
It  is  the  solace  of  time.  It  will  be  the  study  of 
eternity.  The  time  will  come  when  the.  coal  of 
England  will  be  exhausted,  when  the  golden  ores 
will  be  exhumed  from  the  richest  mines,  when 
Golconda  will  yield  no  more  diamonds,  and  Oman 
will  sigh  that  she  is  despoiled  of  all  her  pearls. 
But  this  Bible  can  never  be  impoverished.  So 
long  as  there  are  eyes  that  are  tearful  and 
hearts  that  are  sad ;  so  long  as  humanity  thirsts 
for  all  things  blessed  and  beautiful ;  so  long  as 
ransomed  sinners  shall  celebrate  salvation,  or 
angels  stoop  to  pierce  the  mystery  of  Christ's  re- 
deeming love,  so  long  shall  the  Bible  be  the 
inexhaustible  treasury  of  knowledge,  love  and 
praise. 

Out  of  the  many  inferences  deducible  from  the 


270  Sermons.  - 

wondrous  universality  of  the  Scriptures  I  shall 
mention  only  two.  The  first  is  their  divine 
origin   and   authority. 

This  Bible,  so  exceeding  broad  in  its  adap- 
tations to  all  the  wants  of  the  human  soul  in 
all  nations  and  generations,  is  not  the  work  of 
man.  No  one  man  can  compass  all  men.  Men 
can  write  the  Koran,  the  Veda  and  the  book 
of  Mormon,  for  these  are  earthly,  narrow  and 
puerile,  and  in  league  with  human  pride  and 
passion.  But  the  Bible  must  come  from  Him 
who  made  man  himself,  from  Him  who  is  cog- 
nizant of  his  needs  through  all  vicissitudes  of 
time,  and  is  able  to  satisfy  them  out  of  His 
own   infinite   fullness. 

The  final  deduction  is  one  of  Christian  duty. 
Since  this  Bible  is  thus  divinely  adapted  to  all 
races,  nations,  and  individual  components  thereof, 
upon  us  rests  the  responsibility  to  co-work  with 
the  divine  intention  and  supply  it  to  every 
member  of  the   race. 

This  is  the  grand  object  of  that  society  whose 
jubilee  we  celebrate  to-night.  The  noble  men 
who  formed  it,  coming  as  they  did  from  every 
branch  of  the  christian  church,  furnish  in  their 
own  action  a  striking  illustration  of  the  seamless 
catholicity  of  the  word  of  God.  They  said  in 
the  beginning  that  **  local  feelings,   party  predju- 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible.  271 

dices,  sectarian  jealousies,  are  excluded  by  its 
very  nature."  Acting  in  this  spirit,  the  society 
has  since  that  time  issued  more  than  eighteen 
million  copies  of  the  sacred  book.  They  have 
sent  them  in  a  hundred  languages  to  all  the 
centers  of  the  earth.  They  have  furnished  mag- 
nificent copies  to  all  the  reigning  sovereigns 
and  chief  magistrates.  They  have  freely  given 
them  to  the  poor.  They  have  been  especially 
mindful  of  the  needs  of  our  own  country  with 
its  heterogeneous  population.  They  have  supplied 
them  by  ten  thousands  to  arm  the  soldiers  in 
the  great  war  of  freedom. 

And  now  a  voice  comes  from  Arabia.  It  is  a 
hundred  and  forty  million  voices  blended  into 
one.  The  cry  is,  give  us  the  Bible.  It  is  es- 
timated that  by  the  production  of  the  single 
press  at  Beirut,  it  would  take  six  thousand  years 
to  furnish  every  family  which  reads  the  Arabic. 
Six  thousand  years !  But  the  Christian  world, 
if  it  should  rise  in  a  mighty  inspiration,  could 
accomplish  the  work  in  a  single  year.  Christ- 
endom might  contribute  fifty  millions  of  dollars, 
and  set  all  the  printing  presses  of  the  sons  of 
Japheth  to  work  with  the  sun  by  day  and  the 
stars  by  night.  We  spent  four  thousand  million 
dollars  ivell  to  save  our  country ;  ought  we  not  to 
expend  a  tithe  of  this  to  help  to  redeem  the  world  ? 


2/2  Setmons. 

To  this  end  the  Bible  is  placed  in  our  hands. 
We  are  the  Saxons  and  ours  is  the  English 
speaking  race.  To  us  belong  the  learning,  the 
commerce,  the  inventions,  all  the  great  forces 
of  civilization.  We  know  the  worth  of  the  Bible 
as  the  best  hope  of  liberty  and  salvation,  and 
therefore  we  are  responsible.  By  all  the  trophies 
of  the  past  and  by  all  the  prophecies  of  the 
future,  we  are  summoned  to  put  forth  every 
energy.  Print  the  Bible.  Multiply  it.  Stereo- 
type it.  Electrotype  it.  Send  it  on  the  wings 
of  the  wind,  and  by  the  untiring  energies  of 
steam.  Send  it  to  Italy,  and  let  Garabaldi's 
cannon  thunder.  Send  it  to  Spain,  and  snatch 
her  from  the  old  red  dragon.  Send  it  to  Ire- 
land with  the  open  secret  of  liberty.  Send  it 
with  the  Arctic  voyager  along  the  icy  coast  of 
Greenland,  and  with  the  African  explorer  to  the 
equatorial  fountains  of  the  Nile.  Send  it  by 
swift  dromedaries  to  every  tribe  and  tent  of 
Arabia.  Send  it  up  the  dark  streams  of  Hin- 
dostan,  and  over  the  Himalayas,  by  millions, 
into  the  immemorial  idolatry  of  the  land  of 
Sinim.  Send  it  to  the  wandering  Indian.  Send 
it  to  the  emancipated  slave.  Send  it  to  the 
poor  blind  girl,  that  she  may  feel  with  her 
sensitive  finger  the  story  of  the  cross.  Send  it 
bedewed   with  tears  of  prayer  and  -sweat  of  sac- 


The  Broadness  of  the  Bible'.  273 

rifice.  Send  it  with  full  faith  in  its  divine  ef- 
ficiency to  exalt,  illumine,  and  regenerate  the 
world. 

And  do  thou,  O  God,  who  hast  revealed  unto 
us  thy  will  by  the  mouth  of  the  holy  prophets 
and  apostles,  send  forth  thine  angel  with  the 
everlasting  gospel,  to  proclaim  it  to  every  nation 
and  kindred  and  people  and  tongue,  that  all 
men  may  fear  God,  and  give  glory  to  Him,  and 
worship  Him  that  made  heaven  and  earth,  the 
sea  and  the  fountains  of  waters.  Thine  is  the 
Word.  Thine  is  the  work.  And  thine  shall  be 
the  glory  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  is  now 
and  ever  shall  be,   world  without  end.     Amen! 


A  PASTORAL  LETTER 

FROM 

REV.  JOHN  MILTON  HOLMES 
TO  HIS  PEOPLE. 


LETTER. 

Arcachon,  France, 

December  12,  1867. 

My  Dear  BrotJiejs  ajid  Sisteis  : 

Never  before,  since  I  was  called  to  be  your  Pastor, 
have  I  been  absent  from  you  on  the  first  Sunday  of 
the  year.  It  has  always  been  to  me  a  hallowed  in- 
spiration, after  the  social  festivities  of  the  old  year 
had  ended,  to  meet  together  in  the  sanctuary  to  re- 
view the  varied  mercies  of  the  past,  to  reflect  how 
these  swiftly  roUing  seasons  are  bearing  us  onward 
to  the  goal  of  our  immortality,  and  then,  touched 
by  the  solemn  grandeur  of  the  occasion,  to  partake 
with  you  the  memorials  of  the  broken  body  and  the 
shed  blood  which  should  bind  our  souls  together,  to 
each  other,  and  to  Christ,  and  be  the  faithful  pledge 
that  all  things  in  that  unknown  year  before  us  should 
work  together  for  our  good. 

And  so  this  day,  though  absent  in  body,  I  am 
present  with  you  in  spirit,  sympathizing  with  you, 
communing  with  you,  worshiping  with  you,  and  I 
give  you  from  afar  across  the  ocean  a  New  Year's 
greeting  and  benediction. 


278  Letter. 

This  affliction  which  has  befallen  us  is  no  strange 
thing  under  the  sun,  and  the  way  of  deliverance  is 
marked  out  in  the  word  of  God.  So  long  ago  as 
the  time  of  the  Apostles  we  find  Paul  writing  a  letter 
to  the  Church  at  Corinth  to  this  effect :  "  For  we 
would  not,  brethren,  have  you  ignorant  of  our  trouble, 
which  came  to  us  in  Asia,  that  we  were  pressed  out 
of  measure,  above  strength,  insomuch  that  we  de- 
spaired even  of  life  :  but  we  had  the  sentence 
of  death  in  ourselves,  that  we  should  not  trust  in 
ourselves,  but  in  God  which  raiseth  the  dead :  who 
delivered  us  from  so  great  a  death,  and  doth  de- 
liver :  in  whom  we  trust  that  he  will  yet  deliver  us : 
ye  also  helping  together  by  prayer  for  us^  that  for  the 
gift  bestowed  upon  us  by  the  means  of  many  persons ^ 
thanks  may  be  given  by  many  on  our  behalf!' 

Here,  then,  the  servant  of  God  has  trouble  and 
imminence  of  death,  far  from  the  Christian  brethren 
whom  he  has  loved  and  taught,  and  he  has  also  a 
full  deliverance.  This  deliverance  comes  from  God, 
yet  God  has  many  helping  instruments.  The  whole 
church  of  Corinth  and  all  the  saints  in  all  Achaia, 
from  Stephanas  the  first  fruits,  down  to  the  latest 
born  of  the  babes  of  Christ,  were  sustaining  the 
Apostle  on  their  hearts,  and  insuring  the  happy 
issue  by  their  fervent  and  unceasing  prayers.  So 
it  was  that  the  gift  of  life  was  bestowed  upon  him 
by  the  means  of  many  pei'sons. '  So  it  was  that  after- 
wards thanks  were  given  by  many  in  his  behalf. 


Letter.  2'jg 

Brethren  and  Sisters :  I  believe  that  the  blessing 
of  God  will  prosper  your  intercessions  in  my  be- 
half. I  know  that  many  are  praying  for  me.  / 
have  felt  your  praytrs.  One  Sunday  evening  in 
Venice,  on  the  20th  of  June,  I  experienced  in  an 
unwonted  degree  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come. 
Sin  was  loathsome ;  Christ  was  precious.  Holy 
aspirations  were  implanted  in  my  soul.  Was  it  only 
a  coincidence  that  at  that  moment,  as  I  afterward 
learned,  the  children  and  teachers  of  the  Sabbath 
School  were  engaged  in  united  silent  prayer  that 
God  would  be  gracious  to  their  absent  pastor } 
Was  it  not  much  rather  the  sweet  fulfilment  of  the 
sure  promise  of  our  Heavenly  Father,  that  He  will 
hear  the  cry  of  His  children  and  give  good  things 
unto  them  that  ask  Him. 

And,  brethren,  I  pray  for  you.  The  daily  long- 
ing  of  my  heart  is  that  Christ  in  all  his  power  to 
justify  and  save,  may  be  the  impulse,  joy,  and 
abounding  strength  of  all  your  lives,  that  the  church 
may  be  built  up  solid  on  the  foundations  of  love  and 
faith,  and  that  by  holy  worship,  and  by  holy  char- 
acter it  may  continually  draw  willing  souls  away 
from  sin  to  salvation. 

God  has  hidden  purposes  which  finite  wisdom 
cannot  fathom.  All  that  he  means  by  this  affliction, 
which  for  the  present  seemeth  grievous,  may  be  be- 
yond the  scope  of  our  interpretation.     But  is  it  not 


28o  Letter. 

evident,  brethren,  that  by  withdrawing  the  human 
instrumentality  on  which  you  may  have  too  implic- 
itly depended.  He  would  have  you  more  clearly  see 
that   with   Him  is   the  fullness  of  strength ;  and 
would  have  you  cast  yourselves  in  faith  upon  that 
Divine  Spirit  whose  energies  are  trammeled  by  no 
failure  or  interruption  in  human  plans,  and  whose 
wondrous  way  it  is   to  turn  disappointment,  and 
loss,  and  weakness,  into  power,  and  life,  and  victory  ? 
And,  furthermore,  are  you  not  called  by  the  absence 
of  your  pastor  to  labor  with  redoubled  diligence  in 
the  service  of  the  Master  ?     It  was  the  secret  of 
more  than  one  success  in  our  war  of  freedom  that 
when  the  officers  were  stricken  down,  the  common 
soldiers  themselves,  obedient  then  to  intelligence, 
valor,  and  a  divine  ardor  for  liberty,  kept  solid  in 
the  ranks,  and  fought  with  such  an  intensity  of 
purpose  that  the  riddled  and  shattered  flag  which 
had  been  drooping,  was  swept  onward  to  victory  in 
the  thunder  storm   of  their  devotion.     And  now, 
brethren,  methinks  that  God,  by  His  providence,  is 
summoning  you,  the  private  members  of  His  church, 
every  man  and  woman,  young  or  old,  weak  or  strong, 
to  work  yet  more  earnestly  in  the  cause  of  Christ ; 
to  recognize  every  responsibility,  to  develope  every 
talent,  to  contribute  every  influence,  to  consecrate 
every  energy  of  thought  and  action,  that  the  church 
may  move  onward  in  its  redeeming  work,  demolish* 


Letter.  281 

ing  wickedness  and  establishing  holiness,  "fair  as 
the  moon,  clear  as  the  sun,  and  terrible  as  an  army 
with  banners."  Let  every  one  that  heareth  thus  rally 
around  the  cross,  and  the  heavens  will  open,. the 
divine  light  will  fall  on  every  soul  with  a  new  bap- 
tism of  holy  beauty  ;  and  in  the  revelation  of  that 
light,  men  will  see  and  hate  the  hideousness  of  their 
sins,  and  flock,  as  doves  to  the  windows,  to  seek  the 
forgiving  grace  of  the  Redeemer. 

To  this  end,  brethren,  "  Let  brotherly  love  con- 
tinue." To  accomplish  the  glorious  result  which 
you  have  in  view,  unity  is  necessary,  and  unity  can 
spring  only  from  the  cohesive  grace  of  love.  Here 
in  my  boarding-house  at  Arcachon,  where  French, 
English,  Irish,  Dutch,  Germans,  and  Americans  are 
brought  together ;  where  each  invalid  wishes  his 
breakfast  at  a  different  hour,  and  each  one  wishes  a 
different  dish  for  breakfast,  I  see  an  arrangement 
very  different  from  the  order  of  a  family  whose 
desires  all  fall  together  into  time  and  tune,  like 
words  and  music  in  a  sacred  song. 

But  a  Church  is  a  holy  family.  Here  is  no  place 
for  ambition,  opposition  or  self-gratification.  The 
rule  of  the  household  is  :  "  Bear  ye  one  another's 
burdens  ;"  "In  honor  preferring  one  another  ;"  "  He 
that  would  be  greatest  among  you  let  him  be  your 
servant."  The  duty  is  not  simply,  with  a  negative 
charity,  to  refrain  from  any  measure  which  shall  ex- 


282  Letter. 

cite  dissension,  but  positively  to  do  all  that  is  pos- 
sible to  remove  misunderstanding,  to  heal  differ- 
ences, to  promote  that  genial  flow  of  Christian 
feehng,  which  shall  make  the  full  strength  of  the 
Church  available  for  every  good  word  and  work. 
This  is  the  realization  of  the  noble  idea  of  the 
Apostle,  in  which  the  Church  in  all  its  members 
acts  together  an  one  healthy  body,  compacted  by 
that  which  every  joint  supplieth,  and  obedient  in 
every  movement  to  one  all-pervading  will.  Such  a 
unity  will  demand  the  forgetfulness  and  denial  of 
self  But  is  not  sacrifice  the  law  of  the  Chris- 
tian life  ?  And  is  not  such  a  sacrifice  easily  made 
in  view  of  the  glorious  results  which  are  dependent 
upon  it  ? 

Brethren,  you  will  forgive  me  if  I  have  thus 
stirred  up  your  pure  minds  by  way  of  remembrance. 
I  have  no  fears.  You  have  worked  together  as  you 
have  sung  together — in  the  good  congregational 
way.  To  the  patience  of  hope  you  have  added  the 
labors  of  love,  and  God  has  blessed  you  according- 
ly. Here  then  I  pause,  and  merge  all  exhortation 
into  congratulation  and  affectionate  acknowledge- 
ment. 

To  me  in  my  affliction,  you  have  manifested  a 
sympathy  so  ample  that  the  whole  breadth  of  the 
world  could  not  hinder  it.  When  I  think  of  all 
your  tender  solicitude  and  sacrifices,  so  far  beyond 


Letter.  283 

expectation  or  desert,  I  can  only  refer  such  a 
wonderful  blessing  thankfully  to  that  Heavenly 
Father  from  whom  cometh  down  every  gift  that  is 
perfect. 

Ah !  Brethren,  it  is  sweet  thus  to  be  remembered 
when  sick  among  strangers  in  a  strange  land.  F'or 
the  soul,  such  encouragement  is  food  and  medicine 
and  vital  air.  I  can  only  assure  you  that,  near  as 
you  were  to  me  before,  I  now  think  of  you  with  a 
yearning  which  is  inexpressible  except  by  tears. 

Once  more  I  seem  to  myself  to  be  among  you  in 
the  sanctuary,  on  the  holy  day.  I  occupy  the  pul- 
pit in  which  some  dear  brother  is  now  reading  to 
you  my  thoughts.  Before  me  is  the  circle  of  the 
congregation,  reverent  and  attentive.  At  my  left 
is  the  patriarchal  servant  of  God,  beautiful  to  my 
eyes  with  other  crowns  than  the  glory  of  old  age. 
At  my  right  is  a  duskier  face  gleaming  with  a  satis- 
faction which  earthly  riches  cannot  buy.  There  is 
the  dearest  pew  of  all,  just  down  the  aisle.  There 
are  scattered  the  dear  children  (never  too  many  of 
them)  trying  to  be  good.  There  is  a  pew  where 
there  is  mourning  for  one  who  never  shall  sit  with 
them  on  earth  again.  And  there  is  another,  in 
which  there  is  rejoicing  from  a  soul  which  has 
caught,  for  the  first  time,  a  glimpse  of  the  Heavenly 
vision.  From  every  place  of  prayer  stretches  to 
the  pulpit  a  mystic  chord,    quivering  with  inspi- 


284  Letter. 

rations.  And  now  once  more  the  jubilant  hymn 
shakes  the  air.  Once  more  with  fear  and  trembling 
I  try  to  deliver  my  message.  We  bow  our  heads 
in  prayer  together.  The  benediction  falls,  and  the 
old  anxiety  returns,  lest  some  too  earthly  strain  of 
the  organ  shall  profane  the  hush  in  which  we  seem 
to  hear  the  foot-falls  of  the  angels. 

Then  I  take  up  the  plaint  of  the  Psalmist,  from 
the  land  of  his  banishment :  *'  When  I  remember 
these  things,  I  pour  out  my  soul  in  me  :  for  I  had 
gone  with  the  multitude,  I  went  with  them  to  the 
house  of  God,  with  the  voice  of  joy  and  praise,  with 
a  multitude  that  kept  holy  day." 

And  then  again,  in  thinking  of  all  that  God  has 
done  for  me,  I  can  adopt  the  utterance  of  David's 
faith,  and  exclaim  with  him  from  the  same  land  of 
banishment :  "  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul, 
and  why  art  thou  disquieted .  within  me  .-*  Hope 
thou  in  God,  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him,  who  is  the 
health  of  my  countenance  and  my  God !" 

Let  us  then,  brethren,  begin  in  faith  together  the 
journey  of  the  year.  It  is  not  ours  to  prophecy  the 
events  which  shall  befall  us.  It  is  not  ours  to  order 
them.  It  remains  only  for  us  to  consecrate  our- 
selves this  day  entirely  to  the  Lord,  to  lean  loving- 
ly upon  that  bosom  which  was  pierced  for  our  sal- 
vation, assured  that  He  who  has  been  with  us  in  the 
years  that  are  past,  will  guide  us  and  sustain  us  in 


Letter.  285 

the  year  that  is  to  come,  and  that  He  will,  in  a  good 
time  coming,  bring  together  pastor  and  people,  to 
offer  thanks  and  praise  together  to  the  King  eternal, 
immortal,  and  invisible — the  only  wise  God,  to 
whom  be  honor  and  glory  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen. 


THE    MOUNT    OF    VISION. 


THE     MOUNT     OF    VISION. 


"  In  the  mount  of  the  Lord  it  shall  be  seen." 

Gen.  XXII,  14. 

The  Jewish  nation  possessed  two  very  striking 
proverbs,  which  attested  the  reality  of  the  special 
interposition  of  God.  One  of  these,  which  is  not 
found  in  the  Scriptures,  but  is  current  in  the 
Rabbinical  literature,  has  reference  to  the  bondage 
and  deliverance  in  Egypt :  "  When  the  tale  of 
bricks  is  doubled,  Moses  comes."  The  other 
crystallizes,  in  a  single  line,  the  thrilling  story  of 
Abraham  offering  his  son  in  sacrifice  upon  the 
mountain. 

The  son  stretched  upon  the  altar,  the  uplifted 
knife,  the  arrested  hand,  the  two-fold  cry  of  God 
as  if  in  haste,  the  lamb  provided  for  the  burnt 
offering  tangled  in  the  thicket,  the  name  which  the 
patriarch  stamped  upon  the  place,  Jehovah-jireh — 
all  this  was  reproduced  to  the  devout  Israelite  in 
the  saying  which  is  our  text,  *'  In  the  mount  of  the 
Lord  it  shall  be  seen." 

"  And  Abraham  Hfted  up  his  eyes  and  looked, 
and  behold,  behind  him  a  ram  caught  in  the  thicket 
13 


290  Sermons. 

by  his  horns  ;  and  Abraham  went  and  took  the 
ram,  and  offered  him  up  for  a  burnt  offering  in  the 
stead  of  his  son.  And  Abraham  called  the  name 
of  that  place  Jehovah -jireh :  as  it  is  said  to  this 
day,  in  the  mount  of  the  Lord  it  shall  be  seen." 

The  meaning  of  the  saying  obviously  is,  that  in 
the  crisis  of  need,  God  will  interpose.  In  the 
darkest,  latest  hour,  the  Lord  will  manifest  himself  as 
he  did  upon  the  sacred  mountain.  The  best  English 
equivalent  is  found  in  the  well-known  apothegm, 
*'  Man's  extremity  is  God's  opportunity."  Our  pro- 
verb  contains  essentially  the  same  truth,  and 
nothing  is  wanting  in  its  form;  but  it  is  more 
abstract  than  the  Jewish.  Ours  has  no  local 
coloring,  no  individuality  of  feature,  no  memorable 
fact  of  history  for  its  informing  soul.  The  other 
lights  up  the  top  of  Moriah  with  a  flash  of  light- 
ning, and  shows  us  Isaac  rising  from  the  stony 
altar,  Abraham  gazing  upon  the  rustling  thicket, 
and  the  shining  angel  still  hovering  in  the  air.  It 
was  a  proverb  of  Jewish  faith,  but  it  is  a  proverb  of 
all  faith.  God  will  interpose  as  effectually  now  in 
behalf  of  his  people  as  in  the  beginning.  If  we 
live  by  faith,  Abraham  is  our  spiritual  ancestor  and 
exemplar.  What  God  did  for  him  he  will  do  for 
us.  Let  us  then  this  morning  ascend  the  Mount 
of  Vision,  and  in  the  circumstances  and  the  sugges- 
tions of  that  memorable  scene,  find  the  proof  and 


The  Mount  of  Vision.  291 

the  pledge  that  God  will  forever  provide  for  his 
people  according  to  their  need. 

In  the  case  of  Abraham,  the  crowning  inter- 
position of  the  Almighty  upon  Moriah  had  been 
preceded  by  many  signal  trials  of  faith,  with  their 
corresponding  deliverances. 

The  first  great  sorrow  of  the  patriarch  is  typical 
of  the  experience  of  the  race.  The  voice  of  God 
called  out  to  him  from  heaven  ;  and  the  word  was, 
migration,  removal,  separation,  the  loss  for  ever  of 
the  old  home,  the  breaking  up  of  old  associations, 
as  the  waves  whirl  the  fragments  of  the  stranded 
ship.  We  are  told  that  he  was  summoned  to  go 
out  "  into  a  place  which  he  should  after  receive  for 
an  inheritance  ;  and  he  went  out  not  knowing 
whither  he  went."  Where  was  he  going  t  To  a 
place.  What  place  t  The  place  that  God  should 
show  him. 

As  the  indications  of  Providence  pointed  the  pat- 
riarch westward,  beyond  the  great  river  Euphrates, 
on  across  the  desert,  on  beyond  the  swelling  flood 
which  was  afterward  to  be  called  the  Jordan,  the 
human  prospect  was  as  dark  as  the  starless  sky. 
As  one  opens  the  ancient  map  and  looks  upon  that 
savage  region,  not  yet  studded  with  Jewish  cities 
and  altars,  but  occupied  by  warlike  tribes  of  wild 
men,  and  resounding  with  the  orgies  of  Phoenician 
idolatry,  one  is  reminded  of  the  wintry  welcome  of 


292  Sermons. 

the  Pilgrim  fathers  when  they  landed  from  the 
storms  of  the  Atlantic,  to  find  a  home  in  the  depths 
of  the  rock-bound  wilderness.  Huge  tracts  of  un- 
broken forest  frowned  upon  a  few  openings  by  the 
rivers,  and  all  the  rest  was  solitude  and  desolation. 
The  Canaanites  fished  upon  the  shore.  The 
uncouth  Hittites  clustered  in  the  vales.  Upon  the 
mountains,  the  stern-faced  Amorites  hunted  men 
and  beasts.  To  the  eastward,  the  Hivites  dwelt  in 
caves ;  and  all  along  the  borders  glided  the 
Rephaim,  the  mighty  giants  who  lingered  from 
an  earlier  race  of  aborigines,  invulnerable  by  time 
and  conquest,  who  in  after  ages  still  lived  in  Jewish 
tradition  as  the  majestic  shades  who  people  the 
land  of  death. 

This  is  the  removal,  but  there  must  also  be  a 
farewell.  *'  Get  thee  out  of  thy  country  and  from 
thy  kindred,  and  from  thy  father's  house." 

Most  of  us  who  live  in  this  changing  world,  where 
families  and  friends,  with  all  their  interlacing  loves, 
are  sundered  as  the  November  wind  snaps  the  ten- 
drils of  the  trellised  flowers,  can  appreciate  this 
trial  of  separation.  Even  to  the  young  maiden, 
leaving  home  and  kindred  under  the  tenderest  com- 
mandment of  God,  how  the  forbodings  and  the 
tears  instinctively  blend  their  shadows  with  the 
marriage  joy !  Even  when  the  self-devoted  mis- 
sionary starts  forth,  like  a  Christian  knight,  to  bear 


The  Motmt  of  Visio7t.  29  3 

Christ's  banner  into  foreign  lands,  how  is  his  eye 
enchained  to  the  fast  receding  shore,  all  fluttering 
with  farewells,  and  how  does  his  aching  heart  pour 
forth  the  prayer  that  the  loving  Father  will  bring 
him  back  again  to  land  and  home  !  But  Abraham 
is  never  to  return.  There  is  his  father,  but  he  is 
to  be  fatherless.  There  is  his  mother,  but  he  is  to 
be  motherless.  There  is  his  home,  but  he,  in  all 
the  wide,  wide  world,  shall  never  find  another.  As 
we  listen  to  the  parting  lamentations  of  his 
kindred,  we  recall  the  wail  of  the  prophet  Jeremiah, 
"  Weep  ye  not  for  the  dead,  neither  bemoan  him  ; 
but  weep  sore  for  him  that  goeth  away  :  for  he  shall 
return  no  more."  But,  was  not  Abraham  willing 
to  go  }  And  did  not  the  covenant-keeping  God 
go  with  him } 

The  time  would  fail,  if  we  should  speak  of  all  the 
trials  and  deliverances  which  are  included  between 
the  call  of  separation  and  the  crowning  sacrifice 
upon  the  summit  of  Moriah.  God  did  not  suffer 
his  chosen  servant  to  settle,  like  Moab,  upon  the 
lees,  but  shook  him,  stirred  him,  poured  him  from 
vessel  to  vessel,  strained  him,  to  make  him  pure. 
For  long  and  weary  years  he  must  encounter  the 
hardships  of  a  strange  and  hostile  country.  Child- 
less, he  must  give  up  his  nephew  Lot,  who  was, 
doubtless,  intended  to  be  his  heir.  Now  famine, 
the  scourge  of  all  new  settlements,  threatens  him 


294  Sermons. 

with  starvation.  Now  he  is  a  wanderer  in  the  land 
of  Egypt.  Now  he  fights  fierce  battles  with 
Chedorlaomer,  king  of  Elam,  and  Tidal,  king  of 
nations.  Now  comes  the  anguish  of  domestic 
discord,  and  Ishmael  must  be  sent  forth  to  die  in 
the  wilderness.  The  very  promises  of  God  seemed 
to  be  of  no  effect.  The  whole  land  of  Canaan  was 
deeded  to  him  by  the  contract  of  the  Almighty,  yet 
he  never  owned  so  much  as  a  foot  of  the  soil,  except 
the  cave  which  held  his  bones.  The  angels  had 
told  him  of  a  coming  son,  but  he  was  a  hundred 
years  old  when  the  son  was  born.  Yet,  during  all 
this  chequered  experience,  which  is  but  the  type  of 
the  experience  of  humanity,  God  did  not  falter 
with  his  promise,  nor  forget  it.  He  interpreted  it. 
He  glorified  it  with  spiritual  light.  Before  the  pil- 
grim, walked  with  noiseless  feet  the  omnipotence 
of  love.  He  appeared  to  him  in  visions  of  the 
night.  He  led  him  out  to  gaze  upon  the  stars. 
He  swung  the  flaming  lamp  between  the  symbols 
of  the  covenant.  He  talked  with  him  face  to  face. 
He  tented  with  him  beneath  the  oak  of  Mamre. 
Never  since  the  exile  of  our  first  parents  from  the 
groves  of  Eden,  has  mortal  man  enjoyed  such 
familiar  communion  with  his  maker,  as  the  father 
of  the  faithful,  the  friend  of  God.  Did  not  God 
provide  f Of  him  f 

And   now   at   last   we   reach  the  climax.     The 


The  Mount  of  Vision.  2g^ 

supreme  crisis  of  the  patriarch's  life  is  at  hand. 
The  voice  of  God  once  more  cleaves  the  heavens. 
It  is  a  thunderbolt.  The  summons  comes  for  a 
bereavement,  stern,  sudden,  awful,  self-inflicted — 
the  father  is  to  slay  his  son.  The  voice  calls 
"Abraham!" — the  chosen,  sacred  name.  It  may 
be  that  God  is  about  to  bestow  upon  his  friend 
some  special  covenant,  some  wondrous  joy.  Abra- 
ham does  not  know  what  God  is  about  to  do  with 
him.  But  there  is  no  hesitation ;  he  answers 
promptly  as  a  soldier  to  the  roll-call,  *'  Behold,  here 
I  am."  Then  follows  the  mysterious  command- 
ment, "  Take  now  thy  son,  thine  only  son  Isaac, 
whom  thou  lovest,  and  get  thee  into  the  land  of 
Moriah  ;  and  offer  him  there  for  a  burnt  offering 
upon  one  of  the  mountains  which  I  will  tell  thee  of" 
'*  Thy  son  !  "  Father,  did  you  ever  lose  a  son  > 
Perhaps  it  was  when  he  lay  like  a  king  in  his 
cradle  ;  a  poor,  tiny,  winsome  thing,  with  cheeks 
as  soft  as  the  unblown  petals  of  a  rosebud,  and  a 
hand  that  could  not  clasp  a  rattle.  But  your 
prophetic  love  saw  the  great  destinies  in  his  eyes, 
and  the  victorious  smiles  upon  his  lips,  and  in  his 
curling  fingers  the  golden  sceptre  that  should  one 
day  sway  the  world.  You  had  planned  out  for  him, 
year  by  year,  a  noble,  transcendent  life.  Your 
name  was  on  his  brow.  Your  brightest  hopes, 
your  tenderest  prayers,  were  bound  up  with  kisses 


296  Sermons. 

in  the  bundle  of  his  life.     But  God  took  him,  and 
the  world  was  left  without  an  inhabitant. 

Or,  perchance,  that  son  was  grown  up,  straight 
and  strong  to  manhood,  when  the  old  fond  dreams 
had  grown  to  substance  in  all  that  is  highest  in 
knowledge,  deepest  in  devotion,  and  best  in  stain- 
lessness  of  life  ;  binding  down  circumstances  by 
the  force  of  his  character,  and  flashing  through 
perils  like  a  sword  of  victory. 

"  O  father,  wheresoe'r  thou  be, 

Who  pledgest  now  thy  gallant  son  ; 

A  shot,  ere  half  thy  draught  be  done, 
Hath  still'd  the  life  that  beat  from  thee. 
O  mother,  praying  God  will  save 

Thy  sailor — while  thy  head  is  bow'd, 

His  heavy-shotted  hammock  shroud 
Drops  in  his  vast  and  wandering  grave." 

Love  is  unchanging  and  immortal.  The  pangs 
which  you  felt  over  the  empty  cradle,  or  the  sudden 
death  of  him  whose  leaf  had  perished  in  the  green, 
tortured  the  heart  of  Abraham  as  he  climbed 
speechless  up  the  awful  mount  of  sacrifice.  Beside 
the  father  walked  reverently  the  son — according  to 
Josephus  just  in  the  bloom  of  manhood — from  what 
we  gather  in  the  Scriptures,  tender  in  affection  and 
blameless  in  life.  A  son,  the  first  born  son,  the 
only  son,  the  son  of  his  old  age,  the  heir  of  all  the 
promises,  he  in  whom  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
were  to  be  blessed.  And  this  son  is  to  die.  Nay, 
more,  to  be  slain  by  the  father's  own  hand.     That 


The  Mount  of  VisioH.  ^97 

fathers  hand,  that  had  fallen  upon  the  infant's 
cheek  as  gently  as  an  infant's  tear,  is  now  to  lay 
him  like  a  sheep  upon  the  altar;  to  bind  him  hand 
and  foot,  to  cut  his  throat,  to  drain  his  blood,  to 
burn  his  flesh  and  bones  with  fire  I  Was  there  ever 
in  the  history  of  mankind  such  a  crisis  of  agony  as 
this?  Was  human  love  ever  shocked  and  pierced 
by  such  a  question  as  that  of  the  unconscious  Isaac, 
"  Behold  the  fire  and  the  wood ;  but  where  is  the 
lamb  for  a  burnt-offering  ? 

But  God  meanwhile  was  gazing  on  the  tragedy. 
According  to  the  Jewish  tradition,  the  Shekinah 
like  a  cloud  of  light  was  pointing  out  the  place  upon 
the  mountains.  God  has  measured  the  depths  of 
Abraham's  need.  Before  he  had  whirled  the  stars 
from  His  fingers,  God  had  provided  the  lamb. 
"  Man's  extremity  is  God's  opportunity."  "  In  the 
mount  of  the  Lord  it  shall  be  seen." 

There  is  an  awful  silence.  Isaac  is  stretched 
helpless  upon  the  yet  unkindled  wood.  Abraham, 
stifling  his  unutterable  thoughts,  stands  ready  with 
the  glittering  knife.  But  swifter  than  the  father's 
hand  breaks  forth  the  voice  of  eternal  love,  "  Abra- 
ham, Abraham,  lay  not  thine  hand  upon  the  lad, 
neither  do  thou  anything  unto  him.  There  is  the 
lamb  for  a  burnt  offering."  Did  not  God  provide 
for  him.? 

God  led  him  up  the  mount  of  sacrifice,  that  he 


598  Sermon^. 

might  stand  victorious  on  the  mountain  top  oi faith. 
And  when  in  this  supreme  trial,  the  patriarch 
showed  that  his  trust  in  God  was  stronger  than  fear, 
or  love,  or  life,  God  not  only  gave  him  back  his 
son,  but  added  stupendous  and  majestic  promises, 
swearing  by  himself,  not  only  that  Abraham  should 
be  blessed  forever,  but  that  all  nations  and  ages 
should  deduce  their  blessedness  through  him. 

Abraham  lived  some  fifty  years  after  this  memor- 
able interposition.  We  know  not  what  emergencies 
he  was  afterward  called  to  pass  through.  But  could 
he  ever,  after  such  a  crisis,  have  a  doubt  of  the 
watchful  love  and  providence  of  God  1  God  had 
saved  him  in  that  which  was  greatest ;  would  he 
not  much  more  save  him  in  that  which  is  least  ? 

And  will  God  provide  for  us  as  surely  and  effec- 
tually as  he  did  for  Abraham  ?  Let  the  scriptures 
answer.  The  Apostle  in  the  eleventh  chapter  of 
Hebrews,  after  speaking  of  Abraham's  faith,  and 
the  faith  of  the  other  patriarchs  and  prophets,  closes 
with  the  assurance,  "  These  all,  having  obtained  a 
good  report  through  faith,  received  not  the  promise  ; 
God  having  provided  some  better  thing  for  us,  that 
they  without  us  should  not  be  made  perfect." 

The  best  part  of  their  promises,  the  spiritual, 
centered  in  Christ.  Before  Christ  came,  the  fulfill- 
ment was  only  partial.  For  us  the  provision  is 
perfect.     We  are  not  simply  the  heirs  of  the  prom- 


The  Mount  of  Vision.  299 

ises  to  Abraham,  but  the  possessors  of  all  that  was 
promised.  We  have  Christ  as  the  proof  of  the 
Father's  love ;  and  having  Christ,  we  have  the 
pledge  that  all  things  spiritual  and  temporal  shall 
be  provided,  are  provided,  were  provided  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world. 

The  interposition  in  behalf  of  Abraham  upon 
the  mountain,  is  a  wonderful  type  of  the  mightier 
interposition  by  which  the  Lamb  of  God  was  to  be 
slain  for  the  salvation  of  the  world.  Listen  to  the 
Saviour's  own  declaration.  "  Your  father  Abraham 
rejoiced  to  see  my  day :  and  he  saw  it,  and  was 
glad."  What  day  .'*  Not  simply  the  time  which 
Christ  lived  upon  the  earth  ;  not  merely  the  incar- 
nate life  ;  but  the  crowning  feature  of  the  life — the 
atoning  sacrifice  upon  Calvary.  In  the  depths  of 
the  far  off  ages,  brought  near  by  faith,  in  that  same 
land  of  Moriah,  and  doubtless  upon  the  self  same 
mountain,  the  patriarch  saw  the  Eternal  Father 
offering  the  son  of  His  love  more  freely  than  he 
had  given  up  Isaac.  He  saw  a  more  mysterious 
sufferer  bow  His  majestic  head  to  death,  in  a  more 
awful  consecration.  He  saw  the  shuddering  earth 
and  shrinking  sun  which  proclaimed  the  sacrifice 
completed.  He  saw  hell  confounded,  sin  demol- 
ished, God  exalted,  the  gates  of  heaven  flung  forth 
to  all  believers,  the  everlasting  love  in  the  likeness 
of  a  lamb  that  was  slain,  winning  the  worlds  to 


3oO  Sermons. 

goodness  by  the  wonders  of  its  passion  and  its 
cross.  Tliis  was  the  day  that  Abraham  saw,  and 
no  marvel  that  he  rejoiced  and  was  glad. 

If  now  to-day  we  look  backward,  as  the  patriarch 
looked  forward,  to  that  finished  work  of  the  Re- 
deemer which  is  the  central  fact  of  history,  we  shall 
soon  discern  the  depths  of  man's  extremity,  and  the 
greatness  of  the  divine  deliverance.  For  thousands 
of  years  the  world  had  been  developing  and  accumu- 
lating its  guilt.  Out  of  all  the  families  of  the  earth, 
God  had  chosen  the  Jewish  race  in  which  to  en- 
shrine His  glory  and  reveal  His  truth.  Theirs  was 
the  adoption,  the  glory,  the  covenants,  and  all  the 
symbolism  of  the  Gospel.  For  them  patriarchs  and 
prophets  had  ministered,  and  swift-winged  angels 
clad  in  robes  of  light.  For  them,  from  Pharaoh  to 
Sennacherib,  the  Almighty  had  stretched  forth  His 
red  right  hand  in  victories  so  glorious  that  they  are 
celebrated  on  the  harps  of  the  redeemed,  in  the 
song  of  Moses  of  the  Lamb.  Yet  this  is  the  nation 
which  is  described  by  one  of  its  own  prophets,  as 
corrupt  beyond  all  hope  of  restoration.  "Ah  sin- 
ful nation,  a  people  laden  with  iniquity,  a  seed  of 
evil  doers,  children  that  are  corrupters  I  From  the 
sole  of  the  foot  even  unto  the  head  there  is  no 
soundness  in  it ;  but  wounds,  and  bruises,  and  pu- 
trefying sores."  They  scouted  the  angels,  they 
stoned  the  prophets,  and  filled  up  the  measure  of 


The  Motmt  of  Vision.  30 1 

*their  iniquities  by  nailing  the  incarnate  Godhead 
like  a  thief,  upon  the  cross. 

This  was  the  chosen  nation,  the  children  of 
Abraham  and  Isaac  and  Jacob.  What  then  must 
have  been  the  depravity  of  the  heathen  world  }  As 
we  answer  we  seem  to  enter  the  chambers  of  some 
vast  Lazar-house,  where  the  noblest  forms  and  the 
divinest  features  are  hideous  with  leprosy.  Even 
the  noblest  philosophers  and  poets  of  the  two  great 
historic  pagan  nations  were  guilty  of  unnatural 
crimes.  Their  very  gods  and  goddesses  were  mon- 
sters of  abomination.  What  then  of  the  common 
people  }  Their  indictment  is  written  in  the  first 
chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the  Romans ;  and  the  aw- 
ful charges  therein  presented  are  yet  more  explic- 
itly substantiated  by  the  tragic  earnestness  of  Tac- 
itus, in  the  burning  sarcasm  of  Juvenal,  are  petrified 
in  the  lava  of  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii,  and  find 
an  immortality  of  shame  in  the  fragments  of 
Grecian  and  Estruscan  art.  The  guilty  world  lay 
like  Prometheus,  bound  for  weary  centuries  upon 
the  fatal  rock  ;  the  unclean  vulture  gnawing  at  its 
vitals,  the  links  of  the  king  of  darkness  festering»in 
its  gaping  wounds. 

O  for  a  deliverer  like  him  foreshadowed  in  the 
classic  fable,  whose  hurtling  arrows  should  destroy 
the  monster,  whose  conquering  hand  should  snap 
the  massy  chains ! 


30^  Sermons. 

And  now  the  conqueror  comes.  The  greatness 
of  the  emergency  is  equalled  only  by  the  complete- 
ness of  the  deliverance.  "  In  the  mount  of  the 
Lord  it  shall  be  seen."  Upon  the  brow  of  Calvary 
behold  the  miracle  of  love.  To  save  a  world  like 
this,  what  sacrifice  is  demanded  t  Not  all  the 
blood  of  beasts  that  drenched  a  thousand  altars  ; 
not  all  the  strength  of  man,  the  bravest  and  the 
best  of  us  in  fatherhood  and  in  motherhood  ;  not  all 
the  agonies  of  vicarious  angels,  the  mightiest  that 
bear  upon  their  wings  the  majesty  of  God, 

"  Can  give  the  guilty  conscience  peace, 
Or  wash  away  its  stain." 

It  is,  it  must  be  a  divine  Saviour  that  can  bear 
away  the  sin  of  the  world,  and  change  its  groaning 
discords  into  hallelujahs — God  manifest  in  the  flesh, 
manifest  in  self-sacrifice.  Abraham  saw  it,  the 
prophets  revealed  it,  the  angels  heralded  it,  the 
earthquake's  rumbling  lips  proclaimed  it,  and  more 
than  all,  this  aching  heart  demands  it.  I  can  face  . 
the  terror  of  the  law,  and  go  down  blanched 
and  thunder-scarred  to  bell  ;  I  can  stem  the  stress 
of  any  substituted  agony  of  creature  from  creator  ; 
but  when  I  take  my  stand  upon  the  brow  of  Cal- 
vary, and  steady  myself  to  gaze  upon  that  majestic 
sufferer,  bowing  meekly  his  head  to  the  dishonors  of 
death,  like  a  poor,  pale,  broken  lily ;  when  I  com- 
prehend that  this  is  the  crucifixion  of  the  eternal 


The  Mount  of  Vision,  3  03 

goodness  ;  that  this  king  of  the  Jews  is  none  other 
than  the  Lord  of  life,  the  King  of  glory,  the  Creator 
of  the  universe,  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily  ; 
that  the  Infinite  has  become  incorporate  with  the 
finite,  abhorring  not  the  womb  of  the  virgin,  wear- 
ing the  weeds  of  sorrow,  and  entering  into  all  the 
disgusts  and  horrors  of  sin  ;  that  in  the  mystic 
union  of  his  nature,  he  has  suffered  not  only  the 
buffeting  and  scourging  and  the  tortures  of  his 
broken  body,  but  the  undiscoverable  agony  of  the 
garden,  and  all  the  pangs  and  lacerations  of  spurned 
and  violated  love;  that  all  of  his  divinity  which 
could  be  touched  of  death  hangs  dead  upon  the 
cross  ;  that  this  wondrous  tragedy  is  no  extempora- 
neous sacrifice,  but  had  its  roots  far  back  in  the 
depths  of  the  eternal  ages,  as  if  there  had  always 
been  a  Gethsemane  and  a  Calvary  in  heaven ;  and 
that  even  this  stupendous  consummation  is  but  a 
pledge  and  handsel  of  love  and  grace  in  all  the 
eternity  to  come ;  that  all  this  is  done  for  sinners, 
for  enemies,  for  me — then  at  last  I  am  broken 
down.  My  heart  melts,  my  tears  flow.  I  fall  down 
at  the  foot  of  that  cross.  I  exclaim  with  holy 
Augustine,  "  Too  late  have  I  loved  Thee,  O  Thou 
beauty  of  ancient  days,  yet  ever  near.  Too  late 
have  I  loved  thee."  Forgive  the  blindness  of  my 
sin.  Purge  me  with  thy  five  bleeding  wounds. 
Accept  my  new  born  life.  Fold  me,  O  thou  dying 
Lamb,  in  the  arms  of  thy  love  forever  ! 


304  Sermons. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  practical  conclusion. 
It  is  the  same  as  in  the  case  of  Abraham.  Such  a 
divine  interposition,  so  wonderful  in  itself,  in  its 
direct  import  so  full  of  food  for  gratitude  and  praise, 
is  yet  more  glorious  when  we  consider  that  it  in- 
cludes within  itself  the  ground  and  pledge  of  all  other 
mercies  whatsoever.  God  provided  for  Abraham  in 
his  supreme  emergency.  This  was  the  token  and 
assurance  that  in  all  the  minor  trials  of  his  life,  his 
God  would  not  forsake  him.  Whenever  his  faith 
might  for  an  instant  be  dim,  he  turned  to  the 
land  of  Moriah,  and  said  to  his  drooping  heart 
"  In  the  mount  of  the  Lord  it  shall  be  seen." 

In  an  emergency  more  awful,  by  a  sacrifice  more 
perfect,  God  has  provided  some  better  thing  for  us. 
He  has  so  loved  the  world  as  to  give  his  only  be- 
gotten Son  for  our  salvation.  The  less  is  included 
in  the  greater.  Having  given  us  Christ,  he  has 
given  us  all  things.  Having  provided  the  Lamb  of 
Calvary,  henceforth  every  spot  in  all  the  world  is  a 
Jehovah-jireh.  Having  endowed  us  with  the  in- 
heritance of  heaven,  much  more  will  he  give  to  us 
of  the  things  of  earth.  Will  he  provide  for  our 
necessities  amid  the  changing  scenes  of  time  }  He, 
has  given  us  the  supreme  manifestation  of  his  love, 
and  therefore  in  our  lesser  emergencies  we  can  no 
longer  ffcar.  If  a  benefactor  has  jDromised  me  a 
fortune,  shall  I  hesitate  to  ask  him  for  a  paltry  loan  "^ 


The  Mount  of  Vision.  305 

If  a  friend  is  ready  to  lay  down  his  life  for  me,  will 
he  not  minister  to  my  necessities  in  the  hour  of 
sickness  ?  Just  this  is  the  argument  of  the  apostle. 
"  He  that  spared  not  his  own  son,  but  delivered  him 
up  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely 
give  us  all  things  ? "  "  Will  not  the  Lord  provide 
for  his  people  ?"  "  In  the  mount  of  the  Lord  it 
shall  be  seen."  Ho,  ye  desponding  ones,  bowed 
down  with  sorrow,  care  and  disappointment,  all 
things  are  yours.  Lift  up  your  eyes  unto  the 
mountain.  God  has  given  you  himself,  and  having 
God,  what  can  you  want  beside  }  What  is  best  for 
you  he  gives  ;  what  is  not  best  for  you  he  with- 
holds ;  and  giving  or  withholding,  he  will  pour  his 
love  upon  you,  tenderly  like  a  father,  royally  like  a 
God. 

The  final  application  of  the  subject  refers  to  that 
separation  of  pastor  and  people  of  which  I  scarcely 
dare  to  speak.  God  will  provide  for  you.  Look  at 
that  bread  when  it  is  broken,  that  wine  when  it 
is  poured  ;  will  not  he  who  furnished  such  a  sym- 
bol of  such  a  Saviour,  supply  your  utmost  need  t 
Has  he  not  proved  to  you  his  watchful,  loving 
guidance  in  the  past }  In  the  first  three  years  of 
the  church's  existence,  when  it  was  without  a  pas- 
tor and  without  a  fold,  the  Lord  was  your  shepherd 
and  you  did  not  want.  And  during  the  eight  years  of 
that  fellowship  of  which  the  parting  word  is  breathed 


3o6  Sermons. 

to-day,  I  can  testify  from  my  own  experience  that 
the  Lord  has  interposed  at  every  step,  to  direct,  to 
encourage,  to  support  and  to  save. 

I  am  compelled  to  regard  my  own  ministry  here 
as  providential.  It  was  not  of  my  own  seeking  that 
I  came  ;  it  is  not  of  my  own  seeking  that  I  depart. 
The  circle  seems  to  be  complete.  This  is  the  anni- 
versary month  of  my  ordination,  and  the  anni- 
versary week  of  the  dedication  of  this  Tabernacle. 
The  number  of  the  members  to  be  received  to-day, 
is  the  number  of  the  church  at  its  original  organi- 
zation. Receive  the  token.  You  are  now  to  start 
upon  another  stadium  of  existence. 

When  I  preached  my  ordination  sermon,  I  ex- 
pressed my  thankfulness,  not  only  that  my  lot  had 
been  cast  in  a  city  throbbing  with  the  life-blood  of 
the  metropolis,  but  here  among  the  people  of  my 
choice ;  with  whom,  in  the  household  and  in  the 
sanctuary ;  in  sickness  and  in  health,  at  bridal  and 
at  burial,  in  baptism  and  in  communion,  and  in 
blessed  seasons  of  revival,  my  joys  and  griefs 
should  be  linked  together;  and  who,  in  all  my 
ministry,  should  enrich  me  with  the  treasures  of 
of  their  supporting  love. 

To  day,  as  I  preach  my  farewell  sermon,  I  am 
thankful  still.  My  heart's  fondest  prophecies  have 
been  more  than  realized  in  an  affection  which  has 
never  known  break  or  jar,  but  has  gone  on  expand- 


The  Mount  of  Vision.  307 

ing  to  the  final  hour  like  an  anthem's  closing  swell. 
If  ever  the  poet's  words  were  true,  they  are  true  in 
this  hour  of  separation  ; 

"  'Tis  better  to  have  loved  and  lost, 

Than  never  to  have  loved  at  all." 

No  Other  church  can  ever  be  to  me  like  this.     It 
was  my  first  church,  and  I  was  your  first  pastor. 
And  now  the  tie  which  seemed  almost  like  that  of 
marriage,    is  to   be  sundered    forever.     Yet   what 
could  tempt  me  to  part  with  all  the  priceless  re- 
membrances which  I  have  gathered  here  1     They 
will  be  my  inspiration  and  my  joy  as  long  as  love 
can  live.     I  shall  bless  God  for  them  in  eternity. 
This  period  of  my  ministry  is  a  life-time  upon  a 
smaller  scale.     At  the  close  of  it  I  have  many  re- 
grets— shall  I  say  one  great  regret — that  I  have  not 
been  more  earnest,  more  faithful,  more  successful 
in  leading  men  to  the  Saviour.     Will  it  be  so  in 
heaven }     O  with  what  joy  shall  I  welcome  the  least 
of  these  little  ones  whom  God  shall  enable  me  to 
bring  to  glory.     But  this  great  congregation  who 
will  turn  away  this  morning,  unmindful  of  the  dying 
Lamb  of  God — how  can  I  leave  you  unsaved  .-*    Let 
me  at  least  exhort  you,  by  these  changing  scenes 
of  time,  to  fix  your  trust  in  Him  who  is  unchange- 
able.    There  is  Christ,  dying  upon  the  mountain. 
My   parting   word    is.    Look   unto   him,    and   live 
forever ! 


3o8  Sermons. 

And  now,  dear  brethren,  friends  of  my  soul,  in 
conclusion  let  us  rejoice  that  we  have  the  God  of 
Abraham  to  care  for  us  as  we  fare  forth  upon  our 
pilgrimage ;  that  we  have  in  Christ  the  pledge  of 
all  good  things.     "  In  the  mount  of  the  Lord  it 

shall  be  seen." 

» 
We  cannot  comprehend  the  mystery  of  all  these 

upheavals  and  dislodgements.  But  they  are  all 
working  together  for  our  good,  and  we  shall  under- 
stand them  better,  bye  and  bye.  God  grant  that 
we  may  all  meet  again  where  there  is  no  grievous 
change,  nor  sickness,  nor  shades  of  death  ;  no  bur- 
den of  disappointed  hope,  no  tear  of  unutterable 
farewell ;  where  we  shall  renew  the  communion 
which  we  began  on  earth  without  any  fear  of  the 
last  time  ;  and  as  we  clasp  our  circling  hands  around 
the  throne  of  God,  and  pierce  the  meaning  of  His 
providences,  the  wonders  of  His  love ;  then  at  last 
upon  the  height  of  heaven's  beatitude — "in  the 
mount  of  the  Lord  it  shall  be  seen." 


APPENDIX. 


POSTHUMOUS  INFLUENCE. 


POSTHUMOUS  INFLUENCE. 


A   SERMON    COMMEMORATIVE   OF   REV.   JOHN 
MILTON   HOLMES. 

By  REV.  G.  BUCKINGHAM  WILLCOX. 


**  And  Elisha  died,  and  they  buried  him.  And  the  bands  of  the 
Moabites  invaded  the  land  at  rhe  coming  in  of  the  year.  And  it 
came  to  pass,  as  they  were  burying  a  man,  that,  behold  they 
spied  a  band  of  men  ;  and  they  cast  the  man  into  the  sepulcher  of 
Elisha ;  and  when  the  man  was  let  down  and  touched  the  bones  of 
Elisha,  he  revived  and  stood  upon  his  feet." 

2  Kings  xiii.  20,  21. 

The  prophet,  on  his  death-bed,  had  predicted  the 
success  of  the  arms  of  Israel  against  Syria.  But 
when  at  last  his  lips  are  mute,  and  his  body  put 
aside  from  man's  view,  there  is  danger  that  his 
countrymen  will  lose  heart,  as  if  the  Almighty  had 
died  with  him.  Only  sad  thoughts  gather  now 
about  that  silent  sepulcher.  God  therefore  gives 
power  to  the  dead.  A  miracle  wrought  by  the 
moldering  bones — life  infused  into  a  corpse  thrown 
upon  them — startles  the  Jews  with  the  truth  that 
the  prophet,  even  from  his  tomb,  has  a  message, 
and,  being  dead,  yet  speaketh. 


3i6  Ap'f>endix, 

The  whole  incident  is  a  striking  suggestion  of 
posthumous  influence,  or  the  moral  power  of  a  man's  , 
life  holding  on  after  his  death  ;  which  is  the  subject 
I  bring  to  you  this  morning. 

The  idea  of  surviving  the  grave  carries  one's 
thoughts,  commonly,  to  the  life  beyond.  The  eter- 
nal sphere  comes  up  to  view.  We  forget  the  great 
and  mighty  truth  that,  even  on  earth  and  among 
men,  we  live,  in  some  sense,  after  death.  They  who 
tread  upon  our  graves  will  feel  the  molding  effect 
of  our  lives.  We  leave  behind  a  moral  atmosphere 
of  health  or  of  miasma  for  their  breathing. 

I.  This  is  a  power  that  we  are  now  and  in- 
cessantly setting  at  work.  There  are  many  who 
think  of  it  as  nothing  more  than  the  influence  that 
the  example  of  a  man,  as  we  remember  it,  has  over 
us.  But  not  so  at  all.  That  sort  of  power  is  like  the 
perfume  from  an  aromatic  tree  that  has  just  been 
felled  by  the  axe.  It  lasts  awhile,  then  floats  away. 
But  this  influence  is  like  the  winged  seeds  which  the 
tree  has  been,  all  its  life-time,  launching  on  the  air, 
and  which  have  taken  root  and  already  sprung  up 
in  great  forests.  There  is  no  one  of  us,  no  matter 
how  little  known,  who  is  not,  by  dint  of  his  charac- 
ter infused  into  the  characters  of  others,  gaining  a 
foothold  in  them  for  shaping  their  destiny  that  not 
even  his  own  death  can  take  from  him.  The 
memory  of  your  life  will  sway  men  only  as  they  call 


Posthumous  Injliie^tce.  317 

you  to  mind.  But  your  example  is  putting  into 
them,  while  they  do  not  think  of  it,  elements  of 
character  that  will  grow  stronger  when  you  are  gone. 
There  is  not  a  man  of  us  here,  who  is  just  what  he 
would  be  had  he  never  associated  with  certain  per- 
sons whose  very  names  he  has  forgotten.  From 
each  one  you  took  some  change  of  this  or  that  pro- 
pensity. And  when,  in  the  day  that  is  coming  to 
us  all,  those  fine  and  numberless  threads  that  make- 
up the  web  of  your  character  shall  be  drawn  out, 
one  by  one,  it  will  be  known  who  wove  in  each  of 
them  and  tinged  it  with  its  color  on  the  pattern  of 
your  inner  life.  And,  as  the  dead  have  done  to  you, 
so  are  you  doing  to  them  who  come  after  you.  Day 
after  day,  while  little  thinking  it,  you  are  stamping 
them  with  moral  impressions  that  will  live  forever. 
2.  The  influence,  that  a  man  in  dying  leaves 
behind  him,  is  the  influence  that  ought  to  follow  such 
a  character  as  he  has  borne.  Not  many  men  while 
in  active  life  have  exactly  the  position  or  reputation 
that  belongs  to  them.  The  Bible  hints  as  much. 
It  speaks  of  "  the  restitution  of  all  things"  from 
their  disorder  and  confusion.  One  man  is  eminent, 
and  his  influence  is  greater  than  he  deserves. 
Another  is  obscure,  and,  for  all  his  fair  character, 
he  is  underrated.  One  is  judged  too  sharply,  an- 
other too  easily.  So,  like  many  colored  shades 
around  a  lamp,  the  circumstances  that  are  around 


3 1 8  Appendix. 

a  man  refract  the  rays  of  his  moral  Hght,  and  no 
one  sees  it  pure.  But  death  strips  off  these  dis- 
guises. Nothing  but  naked  character  survives  the 
grave.  The  rich  man  dead  is  rich  no  longer.  The 
mighty  overawes  us  no  more  with  his  power,  or  the 
great  with  the  splendor  of  his  genius.  The  world 
grows  impartial  in  judging.  It  probes  and  searches 
deep.  It  is  like  your  physician,  when  you  call  him 
to  examine  your  case.  What  are  outward  appear- 
ances to  him.!*  He  cares  nothing  for  your  fine 
clothes  or  your  jewelry.  He  puts  them  by,  and 
looks  in  toward  the  seat  of  your  life.  He  must  feel 
your  heart-throbs  and  the  play  of  your  lungs. 

A  man's  motives  may,  through  his  life,  be  a  per- 
fect enigma  to  his  neighbors  ;  but  the  test  to  which 
death  puts  him  will  bring  everything  to  light. 
Was  he  a  man  famous  in  his  generation  t  Then  he 
will  be  known  even  to  his  thoughts.  You  will  find 
his  secret  correspondence,  his  letters  of  affection 
that  let  you  far  into  his  heart,  printed  and  published 
and  spread  all  abroad.  And  if  he  were  less  known, 
still  the  real  truth  in  regard  to  him  will,  in  one  way 
and  another,  come  out.  Death  is  a  pillar  of  cloud 
and  of  fire.  It  casts  toward  eternity  only  mystery 
and  darkness,  but  it  throws  back  among  the  living, 
on  the  side  of  time,  a  more  searching  light.  You 
may  deceive  your  contemporaries ;  but  posterity 
will  sift  you  more  closely.  If  there  is  chaff  in  you, 
depend  on  them  to  find  it ! 


Posthumous  Influence.  319 

Then,  too,  the  character  of  a  man  strikes  sur- 
vivors in  a  mass,  so  to  speak.  While  his  life  was 
running  on,  they  watched  only  the  part  of  it  that 
happened,  for  the  time,  to  be  under  their  notice. 
He  was  a  bad  man  on  the  whole  ;  but  did  them 
some  good  turn,  and  they  admired  him.  He  was  a 
good  man  ;  but  tried  their  patience  with  some  fault 
or  folly,  and  they  despised  him.  But,  when  the 
whole  scene  is  over,  when  no  part  of  it  is  any 
longer  contemporary  with  them,  nor  any  transient 
or  personal  feeling  warps  their  judgment,  then 
they  take  the  impress  of  the  whole  of  him,  and  of 
his  whole  career.  Whatever  he  was,  morally,  in 
the  main,  whatever  chief  purpose  he  had  for  life, 
whether  the  love  of  himself  or  of  God  and  his 
fellow  men,  this,  in  solid  bulk  as  it  were,  without 
regard  to  exceptions,  will  remain  to  stamp  his 
memory  and  to  shape  his  influence. 

And  here,  friends,  the  subject  comes  home  to  us. 
Each  one  of  us  may  say,  in  soliloquy,  "  I  shall  yet 
be  thoroughly  known.  I  shall  yet  pass  for  just 
what  I  am  morally  worth.  I  may  have  incidental 
faults  or  excellencies ;  but  men  will  not  judge  me 
by  those  when  I  am  gone.  They  will  all  fall  away 
from  around  the  character  I  have  built  up,  as  the 
scaffolding  comes  down  from  around  a  completed 
building.  If  I  have  acted  a  false  part,  the  world 
will  be  cheated  no  longer.     If  I  have  been,  at  heart, 


320  Appendix, 

simple  and  honest,  with  a  loving  and  charitable 
spirit,  if  I  have  gladly  borne  self-sacrifice  to  do  good, 
then  the  truth  will  be  known,  and  the  power  of  my 
example  will  live  after  me,  to  work  on  for  God  and 
Christ's  cause  among  men." 

3,  But  this  posthumous  influence  will  be  often 
of  great  extent.  Says  an  old  commentator  on  the 
text  of  this  morning  :  "  This  was  more  than  Elisha 
had  done  in  his  lifetime,  when  he  could  not,  with- 
out many  prayers,  and  stretching  himself  with  great 
application  upon  the  body  of  the  child,  raise' it  again 
to  life ;  whereas  now,  upon  touching  of  his  dead 
body  only,  God  restored  a  man  in  an  instant  to  per- 
fect health."  There  is  a  larger  meaning  in  this 
than  perhaps  the  writer  himself  saw.  Many  a  valu- 
able life  has  been  a  seed  that  must  first  be  buried 
and  dissolved  before  it  can  put  out  branches  and 
bear  fruit.  Many  a  Christian  hero,  like  Snmson  in 
the  temple  of  the  Philistines,  has  damaged  the 
kingdom  of  Satan  more  in  his  death  and  after  it 
than  in  all  his  life  before.  John  Bunyan  preaches 
with  small  success  for  a  few  years,  then  is  thrown 
into  prison,  writes  a  book  there,  is  afterwards  freed, 
and  dies  but  little  known.  Men  think  his  influence, 
too,  dead  and  buried.  But,  he  has  soon  a  resur- 
rection in  his  Pilgrim,  and,  by  translations  into  many 
languages,  the  gift  of  tongues  beside.  So  he  goes 
travelling  and  teaching  from  land  to  land,  till  his 
posthumous  in     ence  girds  the  globe. 


Postktmwus  Influence.  321 

Take  the  biography  of  any  whole-souled  worker 
for  God  and  men — of  Luther,  or  Whitfield,  or 
Wilberforce,  or  Chalmers,  or  Buxton,  or  Lyman 
Beecher ;  read  it  with  your  heart  alive  to  it,  and 
you  cannot  lay  down  the  book  without  feeling  that 
such  a  man  can  never  die.  What  if  his  body  per- 
ishes ?  A  soul  like  his  must  go  on  electrifying  men, 
and  stirring  them  up  to  all  that  is  pure  and  true 
and  good.  So  with  men  of  the  opposite  sort. 
Lord  Byron  never  crossed  the  Atlantic  before  his 
death,  or  seduced  our  youth  with  the  fatal  fascin- 
ation of  his  genius.  But,  for  these  near  fifty  years 
since  his  body  was  borne  to  its  burial,  in  his 
printed  works  he  has  been  ranging  the  country 
and  sowing  death  from  shore  to  shore. 

"  But  not  all  men,"  you  may  say,  "  can  be  au- 
thors, who  live  in  their  books."  No  ;  and  others, 
beside  authors,  have  posthumous  power. 

As  the  springhead  of  a  river  that  waters  halt  a 
continent  is  hidden  back  amongst  the  mountains, 
so  the  source  of  m.any  a  flood  of  influence,  that  has 
blessed  a  generation  in  its  flow,  you  may  find  in  the 
cottage  of  some  poor  widow,  or  on  the  bed  of  some 
praying  invalid,  who  has  long,  now,  been  in  heaven. 

The  posthumous  power  of  a  good  man  is  often  like 
rivers  that  run  part  way  under  ground,  and  come 
out  to  water  fields  that  lie  far  beyond.  You  do  not 
see  the  effect  of  it  at  once.     God's  eye  alone,  per- 


322  Appendix. 

haps,  can  trace  it.  But  the  moral  laws  of  the  uni- 
verse, the  laws  of  nature,  will  all  have  to  fail  before 
power  like  that  can  be  lost. 

I  have  taken  this  theme,  this  morning,  to  set  be- 
fore you  an  example  of  it  that  you  will  long  cherish 
in  your  love.  I  should  be  glad  to  do  honor,  in 
some  fitting  words,  to  the  memory  of  my  beloved 
predecessor  in  this  pulpit.  While  every  heart  here 
feels  that  a  good,  true  soul  has  passed  from  among 
us,  while  this  draped  pulpit  speaks  more  impress- 
ively than  its  living  occupant  can  speak,  of  our  loss, 
I  call  you  to  consider  what  a  life  like  his  is  worth, 
and  to  pray  Heaven  that  the  power  of  it  may  live 
long  in  these  lives  of  ours.  Indeed,  there  are  some 
of  us  who  can  never  be,  to  their  last  hour,  the  same 
characters  that  they  would  have  been,  had  they  not 
met  with  him.  Some  were  first  led  by  his  hand  to 
the  Saviour  they  love,  and  others  caught  from  his 
faith  and  zeal  a  fire  that  they  will  never  lose. 

We  may  say  more.  In  the  great  cathedral  of 
St.  Paul  in  London,  the  grave  of  the  architect, 
under  the  floor,  has  the  inscription.  "  If  you  seek 
his  monument,  look  around."  This  sanctuary  is 
the  monument  of  John  Milton  Holmes.  Under 
his  lead  you  planned  and  built  it.  His  care  and 
love  went  into  its  stone  and  brick  and  timber, 
as  it  slowly  rose  from  foundation  to  summit.  Under 
its  roof  he  wore  down  his  life  in  preaching  the  truth 


PostJmmotis  Influence.  323 

he  loved  more  than  Hfe.  As  you  have  already 
honored  another,  so  we  hope  to  see  a  tablet  to  his 
memory  built  into  the  wall ;  but  the  walls  are  all 
his  tablet.  They  are  all  witnesses  to  his  faith  in 
God  and  his  love  for  you. 

But  let  me  now  review,  hastily  and  insufficiently 
as  I  must,  the  main  events  of  his  life,  through 
which  we  shall  see  something  of  his  fine  and  noble 
character. 

Born  on  the  twenty-third  of  May,  1831,  on  the 
little  island  of  Sheppey,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Thames, 
in  England,  he  passed  there  his  early  childhood. 
The  only  recollection  that  remained  to  him  from 
those  years  was  of  the  reading  to  him  of  Fox's  Book 
of  Martyrs.  That  terrible  record  of  cruelty  and  of 
lofty  faith,  those  pages  that  would  strike  his  young 
imagination  as  dashed  with  sacred  blood  and  aglow 
with  purifying  fires,  must,  I  think,  have  wrought 
themselves  in  among  the  moral  forces  of  his  life. 
You  know  with  what  eagerness  for  self-sacrifice,  he 
offered  himself  for  the  army  after  the  fall  of  Fort 
Sumpter ;  you  know  how  thorough  a  Christian 
heroism  was  almost  as  much  the  specialty  by  which 
to  know  him  as  the  name  his  mother  gave  him. 
And  it  is  easy,  as  now  we  look  back  on  his  life,  to 
believe  that  in  all  the  after  years,  he  carried  in  him 
still  the  lingering  echoes  of  the  tales  he  had  heard 
from  Fox's  Book  of  Martyrs.     In  his  eighth  year, 


324  Appendix. 

his  parents  removed  to  America,  His  father's  pro- 
fession, as  a  clergyman  of  the  IVLethodist  Church 
required,  of  course,  the  frequent  removal  of  the 
family  on  the  circuit.  He  was  made,  early  in  life,  to 
feel  the  uncertainty  of  earthly  fortune,  and  that  we 
have  here  no  continuing  city  or  abiding-place.  So 
often  torn  from  one  home  and  another  in  which  his 
life  was  beginning  to  take  root,  he  was  schooled  to 
hold  the  world  lightly  and  to  look  for  a  city  that 
hath  foundations. 

At  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  while  residing  in 
New  Haven,  he  first  caught  sight  of  the  venerable 
walls  of  Yale  College.  And  that  sight,  like  a  vision 
of  heaven,  haunted  him  for  years.  The  love  of 
learning,  which,  in  some  youth  is  a  languid  taste, 
was  already,  in  him,  a  passion.  "  I  will  study 
within  those  walls  ! "  became,  as  he  often  afterward 
related,  the  silent  but  unalterable  motto  of  his  life. 
Boy  as  he  was,  and  with  years  of  privation  before 
him,  he  could  not  give  it  up.  He  would  have,  by 
and  by,  a  college  education  !  He  would  study  the 
great  thoughts  of  the  world's  master-spirits,  and 
catch  their  inspiration.  He  would  come  to  man- 
hood thoroughly  equipped  to  fill  his  place  and  do 
his  life-work  well.  He  would  not  grow  through  the 
spring  and  summer  of  his  days,  without  growing 
ripe !  Perhaps,  too,  though  it  was  not  till  much 
later  that  he  finally   desired   to  enter  the  pulpit> 


Posthumous  Influc7ice.  325 

some  yet  more  sacred  aspirations  mingled  with  his 
boyish  ambition.  For  he  never  knew  the  day  in 
which  his  Christian  life  began.  He  seems  to  have 
been  one  of  those  choice  souls  whom  God,  from  al- 
most their  unconscious  childhood,  makes  his  own. 
The  new  spirit  somehow  blended  with  his  nature  as 
sunbeams  enter  into  vegetation — with  no  crisis, 
hardly  a  date.  And  so  he  longed  for  a  finished 
mind  as  a  silver  trumpet  for  the  voice  of  a  conse- 
crated heart.  And,  as  we  shall  see,  he  toiled  on, 
through  poverty  and  trial  and  hope  deferred,  till  he 
made  good  his  purpose,  and,  at  length,  could  look 
back  on  the  dear  old  College  as  the  Alma  Mater 
who  had  crowned  him  with  her  honors  and  furnished 
him  for  his  work. 

Soon  after  these  young  dreams  began  to  possess 
him,  his  parents  moved  to  the  West,  where  his 
father  went  into  the  service  of  the  American  Home 
Missionary  Society,  and  where  his  life  was  passed, 
in  the  main,  till  he  entered  college  at  the  age  of 
twenty-two.  From  his  twelfth  year  onward  he 
did  his  utmost  to  take  from  his  parents  the  burden 
of  caring  for  him,  and  to  contribute  something 
in  his  turn  to  their  comfort.  "John,"  his  father 
wrote,  on  receiving  the  news  of  his  death,  "John 
never  did  anything  to  try  me."  His  skill  was  equal 
to  his  energy.  In  his  thirteenth  year  he  completed, 
with  his  own  hands,  a  pair  of  boots.     They  may  or 


326  Appendix. 

may  not  have  been  models  of  workmanship,  but 
valuable  boots  I  know  they  were,  for  something 
more  costly  than  leather  went  into  their  make. 

When  nineteen  years  old  he  determined  to  open  a 
school.  The  town  he  chose  for  the  experiment, 
Peru,  Indiana,  lay  many  miles  from  his  father's 
house.  He  started,  with  a  single  dollar  as  his  re- 
sources, and  walked  the  whole  distance.  On  the 
way  his  shoes  completely  failed  him,  and  he  finished 
the  journey  on  the  bare  soles  of  his  feet.  Arriving 
at  the  village,  he  found  his  clothing,  too,  had  suf- 
fered from  wear,  and  must  be  replaced.  At  once 
he  repaired  to  a  tailor,  told  his  story  and  asked 
credit  for  a  new  suit  till  his  school  enterprise  should 
furnish  the  means  of  repayment.  Something  in  his 
face — anyone  who  ever  caught  his  eye  could  easily 
tell  what — won  confidence  at  once  ;  and,  stranger 
as  he  was,  his  new-found  friend  had  him  soon  well 
clad.  The  school  commenced,  and,  not  long  after, 
came  on  the  Fourth  of  July.  At  the  village  cele- 
bration he  pronounced  a  poem  that  completely  cap- 
tivated his  audience  and  multiplied  his  patrons. 
It  was  Independence  Day  to  him,  indeed.  There 
was  no  more  question  of  his  success.  The  next 
Spring  he  returned  to  his  friends  at  home,  on  his 
own  horse,  and  with  a  hundred  and  fifty  silver 
dollars  with  which  to  rejoice  their  hearts. 

So,  with  faith  in  God,  and  in  himself  as  God 


Posthumous  Influence.  327 

wrought  with  him,  he  struggled  on,  with  the  vision 
of  college  always  in  his  eye.  At  one  time  he 
worked  in  a  daguerrean  establishment,  at  another 
time  as  clerk  in  a  bank ;  at  all  times  more  anxious 
to  gain  something  for  the  comfort  of  them  he  so 
much  loved  than  for  his  own. 

When  at  length,  after  patient  waiting,  and  four  or 
five  years  beyond  the  usual  time  of  life,  he  reached 
New  Haven  and  entered  Yale,  it  was  only  to  begin 
his  long  course  of  study  without  means,  and  to  work 
his  own  way  through  from  term  to  term.  How  he 
endeared  himself  there,  what  ties  were  woven,  be- 
tween him  and  classmates,  that  death  has  not 
severed,  and  eternity  will  only  strengthen,  I  have  no 
sufficient  time  to  tell.  As  I  saw  his  old  room-mate, 
now  a  professor  in  the  College,  bending  over  his 
death-bed,  a  few  days  ago,  as  I  watched  the  tearful 
tenderness  of  his  care  for  him,  and  the  love,  like  the 
love  of  David  and  Jonathan  with  which  their  eyes 
met  now  and  then,  I  felt  what  a  strange,  magnetic 
charm  there  was  in  him  to  draw  such  a  love. 
There  are  many  Christians,  and  some  of  them  young, 
who  are  sincere  and  good — no  man  who  knows  them 
doubts  it ;  but  they  are  morbid.  They  are  full  of 
fears  and  doubts — slaves  to  Christ,  instead  of  the 
glad  children  they  ought  to  be.  They  move  about 
in  a  ghostly  way,  that  repels  men.  There  was 
nothing  of  that  in  him.     No  classmate  ever  had 


328  ^      Appe7idix. 

that  idea  of  him.  He  overflowed  with  his  hearty 
good-nature.  He  effervesced  with  cheerfulness. 
He  won  hearts  as  the  sun  wins  buds  oi3en  in  May, 
not  so  much  on  purpose  as  because  it  was  his 
nature  and  he  could  not  help  it. 

After  graduation,  he  went  west  and  spent  about 
two  years  as  a  teacher,  paying  meanwhile  the 
debts  that  were  left  from  his  college  course,  and 
preparing  for  his  studies  in  theology.  During  that 
period,  at  his  home  in  the  outskirts  of  Rockford, 
Illinois,  he  lost  his  mother.  He  had  loved  her  as 
such  a  son  could  love  ;  and  had  continued,  to  the 
end  of  her  life,  his  filial  care  and  every  kindness  in 
his  power.  I  shall  never  forget  the  description  he 
gave  us,  one  day  last  week,  of  the  scene  at  her 
death.  He  was  so  weak  that  he  could  only  pant 
his  words  out  slowly  ;  but  they  were  wcrds  so 
graphic  as  to  show  that  the  weakness  was  of  the 
flesh  alone.  "  It  was  out  on  the  prairie,"  he  said, 
*'  and  night  had  fallen  around  the  house,  and  the 
Pleiades  were  swelling  out  in  their  solemn  beauty, 
and  while  I  sat  by  her  bedside,  watching  them,  I 
opened  the  Bible.  '  Even  as  a  father  pitieth  his 
children,'  I  read,  '  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that 
fear  Him.'  "  And  to  another  he  had  often  told 
how  his  father  prayed  with  her  and  for  her  as  her 
life  ebbed  away  ;  and  how,  when  he  opened  his 
eyes  to  rise  from  his  knees,  he  found  her  happy 


Posthumous  Influence.  329 

spirit  had  already  gone  to  rest.     "  And  I  thought," 
he  added,  "  of  the  hymn — 

*  Prayer  is  the  Christian's  vital  breath : 
We  enter  heaven  by  prayer.'  " 

About  the  time  of  her  death,  he  was  invited  to 
serve  as  colleague  pastor  with  one  of  the  foremost 
divines  in  New  England.  A  most  flattering  and 
tempting  offer  it  was.  He  had  not  even  begun  his 
professional  studies  ;  but  his  reputation  had  outrun 
his  years,  and  a  pulpit  as  prominent  as  any  in  the 
north-eastern  states  was  pressed  on  his  acceptance. 
But  he  felt  himself  unfitted  altogether  for  any  such 
position,  and  soon  entered  the  Theological  Semi- 
nary at  Andover.  There  he  had  been  quietly  at 
work  for  less  than  two  years,  with  half  his  course 
yet  left,  when  you  called  him  here.  The  professors 
complained  that  you  were  quite  premature,  and  the 
thing  was  highly  improper.  But  he  was  made  to 
see  a  providence  in  it,  as  anybody  seems  to  be  who 
is  wanted  here  ;  and  the  objections  were  like 
parents'  objections  to  the  marriage  when  the 
lovers*  minds  are  made  up.     Of  course  he  came. 

And  here  comes  in  a  long  hiatus  in  my  story — 
the  years  when  you  knew  him  better  than  I — till 
we  reach  these  last  few  blessed  days  in  which  I 
knew  him  better  than  most  of  you.  Some  of  you 
have  told  me  that  he  wore  out  his  strength,  while 
pastor,   with  over  work* ;   others  say  that  the  real 

*  The  signal  devotion  of  Mr.  Holmes  to  his  church  and  con- 


330  Appejtdix. 

trouble  was  that  his  soul  was  too  much  for  his  body 
to  bear  when  he,  came.  And  both,  I  suspect,  are 
right.  A  man  less  determined  to  work  and  do 
good,  at  whatever  cost  to  himself,  would  have 
probably  lived  longer,  with  no  better  health  at  the 
start  than  he.  A  man  with  the  health  of  an  athlete 
could  hardly  have  stood  for  many  years  the  strain 
under  which  he  lived  till  you  sent  him  away  to 
recruit. 

It  was  rhe  war,  perhaps,  as  much  as  the  care  of 
the  church,  that  broke  him  down.  It  was  the  work 
involved,  with  the  anxiety  and  excitement,  in 
making  this  tabernacle  a  kind  of  head-quarters  of 
loyalty,  for  which  he  paid  the  penalty  of  his  life. 
The  battles,  even  before  and  after  Gettysburg,  were 
not  all  fought  on  Southern  ground.  Cannon  and 
muskets  were  not  the  only  arms.  The  rebels 
declared  they  would  bring  the  war  home  to  us  ; 
and  they  did,  though  not  precisely  as  they  meant. 
For  women's  needles  fought,  and  editors'  pens,  and 
preachers'  voices,  and  mothers'  prayers,  all  over  the 
loyal  north,  from  Cairo  to  Bangor.  And  the  worn 
and  wasted  frame  that  was  left  in  this  pulpit,  after 
the  struggle,  was  as  much  one  of  the  wounded  as 

gregation  should  have  had  more  extended  notice  in  the  discourse. 
His  love  for  the  flock  amounted  to  a  passion,  and  drew  a  like 
affection  from  them.  He  longed  to  reciprocate  the  many  tokens  of 
their  regard  ;  and,  as  one  mode  of  so  doing,  in  the  closing  days  of 
his  life,  insisted,  against  their  remonstrance,  on  leaving  his  choice 
and  valuable  library  a  farewell  gift  to  the  church. 


Posthumous  htfluence.  331 

any  volunteer  who  lay  on  the  field  when   a  battle 
was  over,  with  the  blood  streaming  from  his  side. 

But  after  his  failure  of  health,  that  forced  him 
away  to  his  long  conflict  with  disease  and  death, 
after  the  conflict  had  gone  on  from  year  to  year,  far 
east  beyond  the  ocean,  far  west  almost  beyond 
civilization,  he  came  here  at  last  to  die  among  old 
and  tried  and  trusted  friends.  And  so  evidently, 
Christ  came  with  him,  to  uphold  him  to  the  end, 
that  it  was  a  kind  of  beginning  of  heaven  to  look 
into  his  face  and  hear  his  words.  I  wish  that  more 
of  you  could  have  had  the  privilege.  Probably, 
some  who  sought  it,  and  whom  his  weakness  would 
not  suffer  him  to  see,  may  have  deeply  felt  the 
disappointment.  Let  me  assure  them  that  none 
felt  it  more  deeply  than  he.  It  was  a  pain  to  him 
to  decline  to  meet  any  one  who  had  the  kindness 
to  call  upon  him.  But  the  disease  would  often 
reduce  him  suddenly,  and  then,  as  suddenly,  relief 
would  come.  He  would  admit  one  to  his  bedside, 
and,  in  ten  minutes,  be  forced  to  refuse  another. 
But,  through  all  the  sufferings  and  the  intervals  of 
rest,  that  followed  one  another  like  cloud.shade  and 
sunshine,  his  patience  never  seemed  to  fail,  or  his 
gratitude  or  cheerfulness.  "  God  is  a  rod  as  well  as 
a  staff,"  he  said,  "  and  the  rod  comforts  as  much  as 
the  staff."  He  seemed  to  look  forward,  feeling  that — 

"  Weary  hours  of  woe  and  pain 
KxQ  promises  of  happier  years." 


332  Appendix. 

He  had  no  raptures  in  the  prospect  of  heaven — 
saw  no  visions.  At  times,  he  wondered  that  no 
more  of  that  sort  of  experience  was  given  him. 
For  myself,  I  had  no  sorrow  or  regret  on  any  such 
account.  It  was  a  greater  pleasure  to  see  him  so 
thoroughly  natural  in  his  Christian  moods,  so 
evidently  like  himself.  I  sat  with  him  more  than 
once,  comparing  views  as  to  the  life  into  which  he 
was  passing.  We  agreed  in  believing  the  inter- 
mediate state  between  death  and  the  judgment  to 
be  not  a  state  in  which  a  Christian  is  lifted  to  the 
prompt  perfection  of  every  power  and  grace  and 
enjoyment,  but  one  of  progress  in  character  and 
happiness.  Oh,  that  I  could  question  his  glad  spirit 
now,  and  learn  how  it  is  ! 

He  sometimes  mused  about  the  possible  occupa- 
tions of  the  inhabitants  of  heaven.  "  I  have  a 
great  love  of  studying  language,"  he  said  one  day, 
"  our  old  English  language,  in  its  Saxon  roots  and 
its  unfolding.  Perhaps  my  taste  will  not  be  in- 
dulged in  heaven.  I  should  be  more  sure  it  would 
be  if  it  ran  toward  astronomy."  The  thought  of 
the  rest  that  heaven  offers  to  one  so  exhausted  and 
tired  with  years  of  sickness,  was  a  thought  for 
which  he  grew  every  day  more  grateful  to  God. 
"  How  often  I  have  said,  I  am  weary !"  he  whis- 
pered with  weak  breath.  It  is  hard  for  us  who  are 
well  and  strong  to  imagine  with  what  a  panting  of 


Postkumotis  Influence,  333 

desire  he  must  have  longed  for  repose.  Far  up, 
they  say,  at  the  top  of  the  long  steep  pass  of 
Glencoe  in  the  Scotch  Highlands,  you  find  a  stone 
with  the  inscription  "  Rest  and  be  thankful."  And 
as,  after  his  tiresome  journey  of  life,  he  at  last  drew 
a  long  breath  of  relief,  and  was  at  home,  who 
knows  but  some  angel-friend,  perhaps  the  mother 
he  loved  and  was  so  eager  to  see,  met  him  with  the 
welcome,  "  Rest  now  for  ever,  with  thanksgiving  to 
God } " 

A  very  vivid  sense  he  had  that  his  soul  was  his 
proper  self — the  body  nothing  but  a  convenience 
for  a  time.  "  Only  old*  clothes,  this  body,"  he  said 
one  morning,  "  that  I  lay  by  when  I  have  done  with 
them."  At  another  time,  he  looked  at  his  emaciated 
flesh,  with  the  bones  almost  protruding,  and  said, 
with  a  smile,  "  Rattle  down,  old  tenement !  I  have 
a  better  house  above  !  "  But,  beyond  all  thought 
of  more  knowledge  or  of  rest,  or  of  release  from  this 
body  into  another  that  should  know  nothing  of 
sickness  or  weariness,  was  his  reaching  upward  in 
hope  to  the  sight  of  the  Master  he  loved  in  His 
unveiled  glory.  On  that  hope  he  feasted  and  grew 
strong. 

But  was  he  perfect }  Had  he  no  faults  }  I  sup- 
pose he  had  them,  for  he  was  human  ;  though  I 
saw  nothing  of  them  myself.  But  what  are  faults 
on  a  man  who  is  sound  at  the  heart,  and  is  just 


334  Appendix, 

rising  into  the  new  life  of  heaven  ?  What  are 
hanging  shreds  or  earth  stains  on  the  husk  of  the 
seed  that  is  shooting  above  ground  into  bloom  and 
flower  ?  The  inward  beauty  comes  out  and  casts 
them  off,  and  lays  them  by  for  ever.  If  you  say  I 
have  praised  my  brother  too  much,  and  with  no 
discrimination,  I  care  nothing  for  that.  Christ  will 
take  charge  of  his  sins  and  infirmities.  I  love  to 
praise  him,  and  I  will ;  for  I  praise,  through  him, 
the  Lord  who  made  him  what  he  was.  Such 
Christian  genuineness  as  there  was  in  him,  such 
simplicity  of  purpose,  such  scorn  of  all  cant  or 
sham,  such  love,  that  filled  him  as  the  sun's  light 
fills  a  dew-drop,  and  shone  out  of  him — it  is  a 
luxury  to  see  in  a  world  like  ours,  and  to  think  of 
and  tell  of  when  it  is  gone  ! 

But  it  is  not  gone.  While  any  of  us  survive  who 
have  seen  and  felt  it,  I  think  it  never  can  be. 
Effects  come  from  such  lives  long  after  men  think 
the  force  of  them  is  spent.  The  biography  of  a' 
man  whom  I  never  saw,  nor  ever  came  within  three 
thousand  miles  of  his  grave  even,  in  which  he  has 
lain  for  thirty  years,  has  done  as  much  for  me  as 
all  living  men  together.  And  the  sight  of  your 
eyes  that  daguerreotypes  a  good  life  on  you,  is 
worth  more  than  a  printed  page.  I  look  for  results 
of  this  life  that  is  now  closed  among  us.  I  have 
stood  on  a  river-bank  and  watched  a  steamer  pas- 


Post/mmoiis  Infltience.  335 

sing  and  rounding  a  bend  in  the  stream,  till  she 
was  lost  to  view.  And  then,  when  all  was  quiet, 
and  nothing  left  to  be  seen  but  the  river,  there 
began  to  come  in  the  long  swell  of  her  wake, 
surging  and  breaking  at  my  feet.  There  are  waves 
of  influence,  when  such  a  man  as  this  has  passed, 
having  in  him  Christ  the  hope  of  glory,  that  will 
roll  on  for  ever  ! 

O  my  friends,  look  you  here,  and  see  what  a  life 
like  this  is  worth  !  You  who  know  nothing  in 
your  own  experience  of  the  motives  from  heaven 
that  moved  him — you  pleasure-lovers,  money- 
gatherers,  schemers  after  the  good  that  feeds  the 
senses — what  is  a  fortune  worth  to  leave  behind, 
compared  with  a  memory  like  his  }  What  is  a 
fortune-seeker's  hope  worth  to  carry  away,  com- 
pared with  a  promise  of  heaven  like  his  .-*  Think 
of  that  I  entreat  you.  It  is  only  by  a  few,  swift 
years  that  he  has  gone  before  us.  This  chequered 
life  will  soon  be  only  a  thing  of  memory  to  you  and 
me.  Why  not  begin  now  to  turn  it  to  account  } 
Why  not  bring  your  powers  of  mind  and  body,  and 
what  you  have  gained  with  them,  to  offer  all  to  the 
only  owner  to  whom  they  belong  .•*  Why  not,  at 
last,  live  in  earnest,  with  an  object  worth  your  life  .-* 
Let  this  true,  faithful  soul,  whose  pictured  features 
from  behind  me  in  the  pulpit,  look  on  you  now, 
persuade  you  in  his  silencQ  as  he  never  could  by 


33^  Appendix. 

speech.  You  must  meet  him  again.  Your  memory 
must  bring  up  the  words  of  love  and  warning  he 
has  spoken  where  I  stand.  What  sort  of  meeting 
shall  that  be  for  you  .'* 


THE  FAITHFUL  MINISTER. 


THE  FAITHFUL  MINISTER. 


A  SERMON  IN  MEMORY  OF  JOHN  MILTON  HOLMES. 
By  GEORGE  B.  BACON, 

PASTOR   OF   THE   ORANGE   VALLEY   CHURCH,    ORANGE,    N.    J. 


"  Our  dear  fellow  servant,   who  is  for  you  a  faithful   minister  of 
Christ." 

COLOSSIANS    I.    7. 

These  words  in  which  the  Apostle,  writing  to  the 
Colossian  church,  speaks  lovingly  of  one  whom  he 
with  others  had  alike  reason  to  keep  always  in  re- 
membrance, will  apply,  almost  without  the  change 
of  word  or  letter,  to  him  concerning  whom  I  am  to 
speak  this  evening.  For  the  loss  which,  in  the  wise 
providence  of  God,  this  church  has  recently  been 
called  to  suffer  is  not  their  loss  alone.  If,  for  you, 
the  brother  who  has  gone  was  like  Epaphras  at 
Colosse,  "  a  faithful  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,"  who 
"  always  labored  faithfully  for  you  in  prayers,  that 
ye  might  stand  perfect  and  complete  in  all  the  will 
of  God  ;  if,  of  him,  as  the  apostle  did  concerning 
Apaphras,  I  may  well  "  bear  record  that  he  had  a 
great  zeal  for  you  ;"  and  if  your  sense  of  loss  when 
you  remember  that  you  shall  see  his  face  no  more  is 


342  Sermons. 

sorrowful  indeed  :  to  others  also,— to  me  who 
speak  to  you  to-night,  not  least, — to  the  pastors  of 
these  sister  churches,  for  whom,  as  for  myself,  I 
speak, — to  all  christian  men  who  ever  knew  him,  and 
who  knowing  him  loved  him,  because  to  know  him 
was  to  love  him, —  to  us,  I  say,  the  sense  of  loss  is 
deep  and  sorrowful  as  of  a  "  dear  fellow  servant," — 
how  dear  I  have  come  to  testify.  What  made  him  so 
dear  a  fellow  servant,  and  so  faithful  a  minister  of 
Christ, — this  also  I  have  come  to  tell,  as  best  I  may, 
that  ye  remembering  him  who  spoke  to  you  the 
word  of  God  may  more  and  more  be  followers  of 
his  faith,  considering  the  end  of  his  conversation. 
For  Jesus  Christ,  the  author  and  finisher  of  his 
faith  is  "  the  same  yesterday,  to-day  and  forever  !  " 
You  have  listened  already,  as  was  most  fit,  to  the 
story  of  his  life  told  by  your  pastor,  his  successor, 
whom,  during  those  last  days  of  his  extremity,  he 
had  learned  to  know  and  love.  I  shall  not  repeat — 
I  shall  only  briefly  supplement — the  facts  of  that 
biography.  I  shall  try  to  make  some  estimate  of 
his  character  and  to  teach  the  lessons  of  his  life. 
But  in  doing  this,  I  shall  draw  on  my  own  recollec- 
tion of  an  intimacy  which,  beginning  almost  a  score 
of  years  ago,  grew  all  the  time  more  close,  more 
dear,  more  sacred  till,  three  weeks  since,  he  en- 
tered through  the  veil  which  hides  him  from  my 
mortal  eyes. 


The  Faithful  Minister.  343 

I  remember  well  when  in  the  summer  of  the  year 
1853,  John  Milton  Holmes  came  to  New  Haven  to 
pass  his  examination  for  admission  to  Yale  College. 
It  is  a  time  of  no  common  interest  and  importance  in 
the  life  of  a  young  man,  when  he  enters  on  his  college 
course.  And,  even  when  one  has  had  all  possible 
advantages,  has  been  exercised  by  the  discipline  of 
the  best  preparatory  schools  and  encouraged  by  the 
friendly  help  and  counsel  of  the  wisest  teachers  and  by 
the  amplest  fellowship  of  his  comrades  in  study,  it 
is  with  some  nervousness  and  self-distrust  that  he 
comes  to  the  strange  place  and  among  the  strange 
faces  and  the  venerable  presences  of  the  college. 
But  Holmes  came  to  New  Haven  with  no  such  ad- 
vantages. What  preparation  he  had  was  largely  of 
his  own  getting.  Long  before,  necessity  had 
taught  him  self-reliance  and  self-sacrifice ;  and  he  had 
learned  that  if  the  boyish  purpose  which  he  had  formed 
when  he  was  fifteen  years  old, — the  purpose  of  study- 
ing within  the  walls  of  Yale  College, — should  ever 
be  realized  it  must  be  by  his  own  exertions.  From 
his  father,  and  in  his  father  s  school,  he  had  ac- 
quired the  habits  and  the  love  of  study,  and  had  so 
far  mastered  learning  that,  while  he  was  fitting  him- 
self for  college,  he  could  be  a  teacher  of  others  in 
the  common  branches.  By  such  school  teaching 
and  by  industrious  toil  in  business,  he  supported 
himself  while  he  was^  getting  ready  for  New  Haven. 


344  Sermons. 

It  was  during  this  period  that  some  of  his  best  life- 
lessons  were  learned,  some  of  his  best  life-battles 
fought.  He  knew  what  it  was  to  be  poor  and  to 
work  hard  ;  to  save  the  early  hours  and  the  late 
ones  from  his  daily  business  of  self-support  for  his 
other  daily  business  of  self-culture.  Some  of  the 
experiences  of  these  years  of  preparation,  as  I  have 
heard  them  from  himself,  as  I  have  heard  them 
from  others,  were  such  as  would  be  deeply  interest- 
ing, if  this  were  the  place  and  the  time  to  rehearse 
them.  I  will  only  say  that  in  the  course  of  them 
he  came  in  contact  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men,  and  grappled  with  some  dangerous  forms  of 
sin  and  error,  and  acquired  much  of  that  practical 
knowledge  of  human  nature  in  its  various  phases, — 
phases  sad  and  morbid,  grotesque  and  ludicrous, — 
which  was  so  useful  to  him  in  his  future  life  and 
ministry. 

It  did  not  take  the  college  world  long  to  discover 
that  this  new-comer,  who  had,  almost  unaided,  pre- 
pared himself  for  college,  was  the  equal,  and  in 
many  ways  the  superior,  of  his  fellows,  who  had 
enjoyed  the  best  advantages  of  grammar  schools 
and  academies.  He  took  his  rightful  place,  at 
once,  easily  chief  among  us  by  his  genius  and  his 
enthusiasm.  Perhaps  no  man  ever  enjoyed  the  col- 
lege life  more  heartily  than  he.  In  mere  scholar- 
ship his  rank  was  among  the  highest,  but  in  litera- 


The  Faithful  Minister.  345 

tiire,  in  debase,  in  social  life ;  when  any  one  was 
wanted  to  make  a  speech  or  write  a  song  or  give  a 
poem  ;  when  there  was  any  great  transaction  in  the 
college  world  which  called  for  qualities  of  leader- 
ship, he  came  naturally,  and  of  course,  to  the  front 
and  to  the  head.  To  this  day  they  sing  his  songs 
at  Yale,  and  will  for  many  a  day  to  come,  and  the 
memory  of  his  college  enthusiasm  will  not  cease 
so  long  as  those  who  knew  him  there  shall  live.  In 
himself  that  enthusiasm  never  flagged.  It  was  with 
a  religious  fondness  that  he  always  spoke  and 
thought  of  his  Alma  Mater.  When  he  went  back 
to  her,  as  from  time  to  time  after  his  graduation 
he  was  able  to,  all  his  boyish  exhilaration  came  back 
there  with  him,  deepened  and  intensified.  He 
would  grow  eloquent  and  splendid  in  his  utterances 
of  attachment,  of  memory,  of  hope.  The  very  last 
time  he  was  there,  although  disease  had  somewhat 
.  sobered  and  even  saddened  him,  he  was  the  life 
of  the  commencement  festival.  And  among  the 
honors  which,  during  the  last  ten  years,  have  been 
so  thickly  crowding  in  upon  him,  he  valued  not  the 
least  his  appDintment  to  preside  as  the  "  Sympo- 
siarch,"  or  ruler  of  ths  feast  on  that  occasion.  By  a 
kind  of  common  consent,  as  we  read  over  the  roll 
of  graduates  of  the  last  fifteen  years,  we  place  his 
name  among  the  very  foremost,  for  the  bright  pro- 
mise which  he  gave  and  which,  so  far  as  his  brief 
life  permitted,  he  well  and  worthily  fulfilled ! 


346  Sermons, 

It  was  during  this  college  life  that  his  future 
began  to  shape  itself  towards  the  ministry  of  the 
gospel  of  Christ.  Always  a  religious  boy,  and,  with 
the  more  mature  and  steady  resolution  of  his 
growing  years,  a  religious  man,  he  had  not,  thus 
far,  expected  to  become  a  minister.  His  choice 
had  been  to  study  for  the  law, — expecting,  doubt- 
less, more  or  less  distinctly,  to  find  in  that  profes- 
sion the  avenue  to  political  activity  and  usefulness 
and  fame.  We,  who  knew  so  well  his  varied  gifts, 
especially  the  rare  social  qualities  by  which,  wher- 
ever he  might  go  he  won  inevitable  popularity, — 
can  not  doubt  that  sure  and  honorable  success 
would  have  resulted  had  he  chosen  such  a  course. 
It  is  safe  to  say,  that  in  all  human  probability  he 
might  have  gained  wealth  and  fame  beyond  most 
men, — and  gained  them  fairly  too,  and  with  no  sacri- 
fice of  principle,  if  he  had  chosen.  They  might  have 
been  his,  almost  for  the  asking. 

But  during  his  college  course,  and  especially 
as  he  came  towards  the  close  of  it,  and  face  to  face 
with  the  great  world  in  which  he  was  so  soon  to  take 
an  active  part,  he  soberly  made  up  his  mind  to  let 
these  chances  go.  Not  without  serious  and  self- 
sacrificing  resolve.  He  knew  what  it  was  to  be  a 
minister  of  the  gospel, — no  man  knew  it  better 
than  he.  To  be  a  minister's  son  is  a  good  way  to 
find  it  out;   to  be  the, son  of  a  Home  Missionary 


The  Faithful  Minister.  34/ 

on  a  salary  of  four  hundred  dollars  annually,  is  a 
still  better  way.  He  was  not  ignorant  how  hard 
the  work  is,  what  frequent  fight  to  keep  the  wolf 
from  the  door  must  needs  be  waged,  how  heart  and 
brain  grow  weary  with  the  bearing  of  such  burdens 
as  the  pastoral  office  faithfully  performed  imposes^ 
how  the  tired  body  faints,  by  reason  of  its  insufficiency 
for  toil  and  care  so  almost  more  than  human  in 
their  nature.  He  knew  that  the  surrender  of  am- 
bitions not  dishonorable,  of  wealth  by  which  his 
home  might  be  made  beautiful  and  happy,  was 
involved  when  he  decided  to  become  a  minister. 
But  he  decided,  none  the  less.  Deliberately  con- 
sidering the  question — noticing,  no  doubt,  as  he 
looked  around  upon  his  comrades,  how  many  of 
them  were  crowding  the  avenues  of  worldly  activity, 
how  few  were  entering  that  harvest-field  in  which 
the  weary  laborers  were  praying  to  the  Lord  to 
send  forth  more  ;  talking  the  matter  over  and  over 
again  with  that  one  with  whom  he  had  the  dearest 
right  to  take  such  counsel,  and  perceiving  how 
much  more  good  there  might  be  wrought  in  the 
office  of  the  Christian  ministry  than  in  any  other 
calling  ;  quickened,  moreover,  by  a  time  of  religious 
awakening  and  refreshment  in  the  college  com- 
munity, and  confirmed  in  his  decision  by  what 
seemed  like  the  dying  wish  of  the  mother  whom  he 
dearly  loved,  he  chose— shall  we  not  surely  say — 
the  better  part. 


348  Setmons. 

There  were  still  four  years  before  he  could  be 
ready  for  this  chosen  work.  One  year  must  be 
spent  in  earning  money  with  which  he  might  pay 
the  debt  incurred  already  in  his  education,  and  pro- 
vide for  his  support  in  what  remained  of  it.  Then 
he  came  to  Andover,  and  at  once  by  natural  right 
became  the  most  conspicuous  member  of  the 
Seminary  there.  Here,  after  an  interval  of  separa- 
tion, during  which  I  had  been  at  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  our  acquaintance  was  renewed  and  our  in- 
timacy deepened.  Hereafter,  we  were  to  walk  side 
by  side,  although  with  steps  unequal,  as  dear 
fellow  servants  in  the  ministry  of  Christ,  in  these 
neighbor  churches, — not  to  be  greatly  separated 
till,  at  the  summons  of  the  Master's  voice,  one 
should  be  taken  and  the  other  left. 

I  may  with  the  less  presumption  associate  myself 
with  him,  even  in  your  sacred  remembrance,  because 
I  love  to  think  that  I  helped  bring  him  to  you. 
I  knew  this  church  before  he  did.  I  assisted  in 
persuading  him  to  come  and  see  you.  I  was  to  be 
ordained  in  March  at  Orange  ;  he  came  to  spend 
the  Sunday  previous  with  you,  and  to  be  present  on 
the  following  Wednesday  at  my  ordination.  When 
that  Wednesday  came  and  he  came  with  it,  there 
came,  with  it  and  him,  perhaps  a  score  of  you  who 
had  already  learned  to  love  him,  whom  he  had 
already  learned  to  love.     Even  then,  it  was  as  good 


The  Faithftd  Minister.  54^ 

as  settled  that  he  should  be  your  pastor.  It  had 
taken  only  the  sight  of  him  to  settle  the  affections 
of  the  church  on  him.  It  had  taken  only  the  sight 
of  the  field,  and  of  its  needs  and  possibilities,  and 
of  the  little  handful  of  resolute  Christian  men  who 
were  endeavoring  to  occupy  it,  to  settle  his  affection 
on  the  church.  Two  months  later,  on  the  23rd  of 
May,  his  birthday  and  mine,  his  ordination  here 
took  place  ;  and  he  who,  for  a  long  time,  had  been 
"our  dear  fellow  servant,"  became  thenceforth,  "for 
you,  a  faithful  minister  of  Christ." 

How  faithful  a  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  yourselves 
are  witnesses.  It  was  a  good  time  to  begin  one's 
ministry,  but  it  was  a  hard  time.  It  was  one  of 
those  times  of  crisis  which  divide  the  ages  ;  what 
the  prophets  of  the  Hebrew  church  were  wont  to 
call  a  day  of  the  Lord.  In  such  a  time,  beside  the 
ordinary  work  of  saving  souls  from  sin,  there  was 
also  to  be  done  the  extraordinary  work  of  saving  a 
nation  from  unrighteousness  and  from  the  conse- 
quences of  unrighteousness,  and  no  small  share  of 
that  great  work  came  on  the  Christian  ministry. 
To  arouse,  to  stimulate,  to  guide  the  patriotism 
of  the  imperilled  nation ;  to  pray  and  not  to  faint 
in  the  dark  hours  when  great  disaster  came  upon 
our  arms ;  to  point  out  fearlessly  and  clearly  the 
eternal  principles  of  righteousness  involved  in  the 
great  struggle  ;  and  to  interpret  the  lessons  which 


3^0  Seimons. 

God's  outstretched  hand  and  mighty  arm  were 
teaching, — this  work,  besides  the  ministry  of  recon- 
ciliation, of  confirmation,  of  consolation  to  individual 
souls,  was  laid  upon  us  all. 

To  a  man  of  sluggish  temper  and  of  cool,  phleg- 
matic spirit,  it  might  be  possible  to  put  one's  hand 
to  such  a  task  as  this  without  much  sense  of  suffer- 
ing ;  but  to  a  man  like  Holmes  it  was  not  possible 
to  come  so  near  the  fiery-cloudy  pillar  of  the  Lord 
of  Hosts,  and  not  feel  the  brightness  of  the  glory 
which  no  flesh  can  look  upon  and  live.  Clad  with 
zeal  as  with  a  cloak,  his  zeal  consumed  him,  as  if, 
to  use  the  strong  words  of  the  Hebrew  prophet,  it 
were  eating  him  up.  Even  before  he  was  ordained, 
and  while  he  was  serving  you  with  an  occasional 
ministry,  his  trumpet  gave  forth  no  uncertain 
sound.  There  must  be  some  here  to  night  who 
will  remember  the  grand  sermon  which  he  preached 
the  Sunday  following  that  memorable  19th  day  of 
April,  1 86 1,  when  Massachusetts'  dead  were  lying  in 
the  streets  of  Baltimore.  Do  you  remember  how  he 
spoke  his  warning  and  his  words  of  cheer :  "  And 
now  in  this  awful*  contest,  of  which  we  have  just 
seen  the  beginning,  and  of  which  no  man  can  see 
the  end,  fear  not,  my  brethren,  neither  be  afraid. 
This  is  a  contest  in  which  God  is  on  our  side.  If 
God  is  not  with  us,  there  is  no  God,  God  is  dead!" 
I  wish  that  I  could  quote  more  of  it.     The  ring  of 


The  Faithftd  Minister.  35 1 

those  words  was  right  manful,  soldierly,  Christian. 
How  much  utterances  such  as  his  were  worth,  in 
those  days,  and  in  this  commonwealth,  and  in  this 
city,  there  are  some  of  us  who  have  not  yet 
forgotten  ! 

But  after  all,  he  only  did  this  work  of  Christian 
patriotism  as  he  did  everything.  Whatsoever  he 
had  to  do,  he  did  it  with  his  might.  He  put 
himself  into  his  work,  whether  the  work  was 
great  or  small.  Only  there  was  more  of  him,  in 
proportion  as  the  need  of  the  occasion  was  more 
great.  Whenever  any  great  emergency  kindled 
and  stirred  him  ;  whenever  the  great  deeps  of  his 
strong  soul  were  broken  up,  then  voice,  and  eye, 
and  countenance,  and  sweeping  arm,  and  manly 
hand,  and  the  whole  being  of  the  man  were 
eloquent   and  mighty. 

It  is  time  that  I  begm  to  point  out,  more  ex- 
plicitly, the  qualities  vvhich  made  him  worthy  of  the 
love  we  gave  him,  of  the  grief  with  which  we  gave 
him  up  to  go  before  us  to  the  presence  of  the  Lord, 
(i)  First  of  all,  I  bid  you  keep  in  mind  \{\^ goodness. 
In  the  catalogue  of  gifts  and  graces  of  the  Spirit 
which  the  Apostle  Paul  has  given  us,  he  mentions 
"goodness"  as  a  special  quality,  distinct  from  or  sub- 
ordinate to  that  charity  which  is  the  sum  of  all.  It  is 
that  willingness  to  be  of  use  to  others,  that  generous 
kindness  which,  almost  of  course,  gives  help  and 


352  SerfHons. 

sympathy  and  strength.  Every  boy  knows  what  it 
is,  when  he  sees  it  in  the  schoolmate  whom  he  calls 
"a  real  good  fellow,"  when  he  sees  the  absence  of  it 
in  another  whom  he  describes  as  "mean."  It  was 
this  quality  in  our  dear  friend  which  made  him,  when 
he  was  a  little  boy  of  five  or  thereabouts,  rush  in, 
between  the  older  brother  who  was  going  to  be 
punished,  and  his  father  who  was  going  to  inflict  the 
punishment,  with  the  generous  outcry,  "  Let  me 
take  it,  father !"  It  was  this  quality  which,  as  I 
have  grateful  reason  to  remember,  made  him  stay 
with  me  so  closely,  care  for  me  so  tenderly,  nurse 
me  and  bring  me  home  with  such  almost  feminine 
skill  and  kindness,  when  in  our  army  experience,  I 
was  taken  perilously  ill  at  Chattanooga.  It  was  this 
that  made  him  put  aside  the  flattering  invitations 
which  came  in  upon  him  from  so  many  churches 
rich,  conspicuous  and  cultured,  to  take  his  stand 
with  this  mere  handful  of  disciples  in  a  field  which 
then  was  not  attractive  nor  agreeable.  It  was  this 
which  made  him  always  so  welcome  in  your  homes, 
beside  the  sick  bed,  in  the  chamber  of  the  dying,  in 
the  house  of  mourning.  It  was  this  which  made  it 
easy  for  the  inquiring,  the  perplexed  and  burdened 
soul  to  ask  his  counsel  and  confide  in  him.  It  was 
this  which  made  him  always  quick  in  pity  for  the 
poor,  in  manl)^  and  indignant  sympathy  for  the 
oppressed.     When,  the  other  day,  the  sightless  eyes 


The  Faithful  Minister.  353 

of  that  old  colored  woman  grew  yet  more  dim  with 
sorrow  at  his  funeral,  and  when  she  came  to  put  her 
trembling  hand  on  his  fair  brow,  it  was  a  tribute 
not  so  much  to  any  splendor  of  his  genius,  as  to 
the  simple  goodness  of  his  heart.  And  no  one 
looked  upon  that  simple  and  pathetic  spectacle  with- 
out the  knowledge  that  the  tribute  was  most  fit  and 
beautiful ! 

(2)  I  bid  you  to  remember  also,  as  the  good  gifts 
of  God,  those  intellectual  traits  by  which  he  was 
distinguished.  If  he  had  ever  found  the  time  to 
cultivate  the  fine  poetic  taste  and  talent  which  was 
given  him,  he  would  have  left  behind  him  some- 
thing by  which  our  literature  would  be  permanently 
richer.  I  think  that  not  the  least  of  the  sacrifices 
which  he  made  to  the  work  of  the  ministry  was  the 
sacrifice  of  literary  culture.  You  know  that  once, 
afler  he  was  settled  here,  and  more  than  once,  the 
college  which  he  loved  so  dearly  called  him  back 
to  spend  his  life  within  its  walls.  The  opportunity 
was  offered  him  to  give  his  strength  and  time  to 
just  the  study  which  he  loved  most  dearly,  the  study 
of  our  mother  tongue,  and  of  its  literature.  It  is 
not  improper,  after  this  interval  and  on  this  occa- 
sion, to  say  that  the  appointment  to  this  work  was 
urged  upon  him  with  an  earnestness  which  few 
men  could  have  resisted.  The  college  officers,  for 
whom  he  had  so  deep  a  reverence  ;  his  father,  to 


354  Se7nions. 

whom  he  gave  always — from  his  infancy  to  his  ma- 
ture manhood  of  forty  years, — such  affectionate 
and  filial  heed  ;  his  most  devoted  friends,  with 
kindly  importunity  and  remonstrance,  joined  to 
urge  upon  him  what  his  natural  tastes  and  impulses 
only  too  eagerly  inclined  him  to  accept.  He  was 
told, —  how  truly  ^the  result  has  sorrowfully  shown, 
— that  health  and  even  life  might  fail  him  in  the 
arduous  labors  of  his  growing  parish.  He  was  told 
what  need  there  was,  among  the  young  men  of  the 
college,  of  just  the  influence  which  he  could  bring 
to  bear  upon  them,  of  just  the  preaching  he  could 
give  in  addition  to  the  work  of  his  professorship. 
To  almost  any  man  it  might  have  seemed  that  duty 
lay,  for  once,  just  in  the  very  line  of  inclination. 
And  indeed  I  almost  wonder,  to  this  day,  how  he 
had  strength  and  firmness  to  say  "no!"  He  did 
say  "no."  He  chose,  a  second  time,  the  simple 
ministry  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,  rather  than  all  the 
chances  of  fine  culture,  of  congenial  study,  of  aca- 
demic honor,  of  enduring  literary  fame. 

This  incident,  which  shows  how  those  whose 
judgment  in  such  matters  has  authoritative  value 
held  in  esteem  his  intellectual  gifts,  makes  need- 
less any  further  commendation  of  them  in  this 
presence.  Only  I  must  make  special  mention  of 
what  was,  in  part,  a  quality  of  mind,  and  in  part,  a 
quality  of  heart — his  admirable  humor.     It  was  a 


The  Faithful  Mmister.  355 

good  gift  of  God.  There  is  a  kind  of  wit  which  is 
unlovely  and  unclean.  There  is  a  humor  which, 
though  bright,  is  sour  and  bitter.  There  is  a  sar- 
casm which  only  scorches,  and  a  satire  which  but 
stings.  But  with  him  the  wit  was  always  good  ;  and 
I  might  almost  say  the  good  was  always  witty.  His 
humor  was  pervasive,  like  a  golden  atmosphere. 
It  brightened  you,  half-imperceptibly,  when  you 
could  not  see  it,  and  you  only  knew  that  you  were 
somehow  cheered  and  brightened.^  Sometimes  it 
was  let  loose  from  all  restraint,  and  danced  like  the 
gay  dancers  of  the  northern  sky  with  flashes  of 
auroral  brilliancy.  He  used  it  as  a  means  of  grace 
to  others.  He  would  bring  to  the  bedside  of  a  sick 
man  sometimes  such  a  pleasant,  wholesome  merri- 
ment as  would  well  nigh  make  him  forget  that  he 
was  sick.  I  have  seen  him  on  the  battle-field 
speak  some  word  of  cheerful  greeting  to  a  group  of 
soldiers  that  would  light  their  faces  up  with  a  con- 
tagious animation, —  and  at  the  same  time  drop 
some  word  of  wise  religious  counsel  which  they 
could  not  soon  forget.  "Well,  boys,"  he  said  to 
such  a  group,  on  that  most  memorable  day  when 
we  were  doing  what  we  could  as  Christian  minis- 
ters in  Sherman's  army  at  Resaca,  "Well,  boys,  I 
guess  that  you  believe  in  General  Sherman,  don't 
you  .-* "  And  of  course,  from  those  tough  veterans 
who  had  followed  their  great  leader  on  from  vie- 


35^  Sermons. 

tory  to  victory,  through  mountain  passes,  over  hos- 
tile batteries,  across  well-fought  fields  innumerable, 
there  came  back  the  swift  response,  '*  That's  so  ! 
we  believe  in  Sherman."  "  Ah,  I  thought  so ;  so 
do  I.  Now,  if  we  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
just  that  way,  we  are  all  right !  "  I  do  not  know  how 
often  I  have  thought  of  it,  and  used  the  incident  to 
show  men  what  it  is  to  trust  in  Christ.  It  is  be- 
lieving in  Him,  "just  that  way." 

As  I  recall  those  days,  I  might  prolong  this 
sermon,  beyond  all  reasonable  limits,  with  the  rem- 
iniscence of  his  quick  and  ready  wit  that  played  upon 
the  back  ground  of  a  solemn  and  pathetic  earnest- 
ness. We  were  quartered  that  same  night  in  a  rude 
farm  house,  sleeping  on  the  floor,  and  waked  at  one 
time  with  the  inextinguishable  laughter  of  our 
friend  at'some  droll  nocturnal  experience ;  and  again, 
towards  morning,  by  a  rattle  of  incessant  musketry, 
so  close,  so  rapid,  so  terrific,  and  succeeded  by  a 
silence  so  intense  in  the  black  darkness  of  the  night, 
that  power  of  speech  was  for  a  moment  almost 
gone.  And  I  remember  with  what  solemn  earnest- 
ness of  pathos  Holmes'  voice  broke  our  suspense 
and  cheered  our  souls,  in  the  uncertainty  of  terror, 
with  the  words  "  May  God  defend  the  right !  "  It 
was  a  good  voice  to  listen  to,  and  to  say  "Amen"  to ! 

Of  course  this  is  not  the  place,  even  if  there 
were  time,  and  even  if  our  heavy   hearts  would 


The  Faithful  Minister.  357 

suffer  us,  to  dwell  on  illustrations  of  the  wit  and 
humor  which  distinguished  him.  I  only  say  that  it 
was  pure  and  genuine.  When  he  used  it  as  a 
weapon  against  any  sham,  he  hit,  as  one  has  said 

"  With  shafts  of  gentle  satire,  kin  to  charity 
That  harmed  not." 

Keen  enough  his  wit  was,  but  I  think  I  never 
knew  it  bitter ;  and  shrewd  enough  his  humor,  but 
I  think  I  never  knew  it  sour.  It  found  a  fit  ex- 
pression in  his  laugh  which,  who  that  heard  it  ever 
will  forget }  It  had  the  guilelessness  of  a  little 
child's  laugh  with  the  heartiness  of  a  strong  man's. 
It  had  an  honest,  wholesome  ring  to  it  potent  to 
drive  away  all  melancholy,  morbid  spirits,  as  ghosts 
were  said  to  vanish  at  the  clear  cock-crow.  It  was 
contagious.  I  have  seen  a  car  full  of  people  who 
were  utter  strangers,  and  who  had  not  any  knowl- 
edge what  he  laughed  at,  laugh  in  sympathy  with 
him  because  they  could  not  help  it.  It  was  the 
very  soul  of  honest  mirth.  No  one  I  think  was 
ever  made  the  worse  by  any  jest  of  his,  or  hurt  by 
his  hilarity. 

(3)  It  would  not  have  been  strange  if,  with  such 
gifts  which  all  men  greatly  value,  and  which  bring 
so  easily  to  their  possessor  flattery  and  deference, 
and  make  him  sought  for  and  courted,  his  modesty 
should  have  somehow  suffered  and  an  odious  self- 
conceit  been  fostered.     But  it  was  not  so.     His  es- 


358  Sermons, 

tiniate  of  what  he  did  was  low  enough.  Indeed  I 
know,  though  it  may  seem  a  strange  thing  to  you 
as  I  say  it,  that  he  suffered  from  a  kind  of  self- 
depreciation  which  is  very  hard  to  bear.  When  all 
men  were  praising  him,  he  was  often  troubled  with 
a  sense  of  failure,  burdened  with  the  consciousness 
of  insufficiency.  He  needed  sympathy, — he  who 
was  so  full  of  sympathy  for  others, — needed  it  him- 
self often,  when  he  had  to  do  without  it ;  was  de- 
pendent on  the  encouragement  and  approbation  of 
others,  and  depressed  for  want  of  it.  A  self-com- 
placent vanity  would  have  weakened  him  of  half  his 
power.  An  unselfish  modesty  made  that  power  all 
the  greater,  all  the  nobler. 

(4)  If  there  is  one  word  which  sums  up  and  ex- 
presses in  itself  his  character,  it  seems  to  me  that  word 
is  genuineness.  What  he  was,  he  was,  all  through. 
His  character  was  not  gilded  ;  it  was  gold.  His 
mirth  was  honest  mirth,  not  empty  and  not  false. 
It  tickled  all  his  soul.  His  pathos  too  was  honest, 
and  manly.  The  fount  of  tears  in  him  gave  forth 
no  fictitious  waters.  When  his  clear  eyes  grew  dim 
and  overflowed,  as  I  have  seen  them  more  than  once, 
it  was  with  honest  sympathy,  with  manly  sorrow. 
That  beautiful  enthusiasm  which  lifted  him,  and  us, 
in  our  degree,  who  witnessed  it  and  felt  the  power 
of  it,  with  him,  so  that  he  mounted  up  with  wings 
as  eagles,  so  that  his  influence  and  eloquence  were 


The  Faithftd  Minister.  359 

like  a  rushing  mighty  wind,  was  genuine, — not 
made  to  order  and  supplied  upon  demand.  It  was 
his  soul's  life, — virtue  going  forth  from  him  by  a 
spontaneous  overflow.  How  genuine  his  religious 
life  was  I  need  only  remind  you.  In  whomsoever 
else  there  might  be  cant  or  sham  or  spuriousness, 
there  was  not  in  him.  The  words  of  religious  ex- 
perience on  his  lips,  when  one  heard  them,  which 
was  not  often,  were  simple,  honest  words,  spoken 
with  no  whine  of  sickly  sentimentalism,  with  no 
groan  of  morbid  fear.  You  know  how  bright,  how 
cheerful  and  how  beautiful  a  thing  the  life  of  Christ 
was  seen  to  be  as  he  expressed  it  in  his  own  re- 
flection of  it.  It  was,  (as  some  one  said  concerning 
another,)  it  was  like  meeting  a  fresh  breeze  to  meet 
him ;— so  it  was,  like  being  blown  upon  by  some 
strong  west  wind,  which  should  chase  away  all 
chafly  emptiness,  all  miasmatic  vapors  from  the  souls 
of  those  who  came  in  contact  with  him. 

(5)  And  now  when  for  a  moment  I  have  asked 
you  to  remember  how  his  love  to  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  and  his  devotion  to  the  service  of  that  Lord 
was,  to  his  character,  as  is  a  crown  upon  a  kingly 
head,  was  on  him  like  the  beauty  of  the  Holy  one 
himself, — then  I  may  leave  his  memory  to  the  rever- 
ent silence  of  your  own  loving  hearts.  What  he 
might  have  been,  if  with  all  natural  gifts,  this  one 
thing  had  been  lacking  we  need  not  stop  to  ask  : 


360  Sermons. 

for  it  was  not  lacking.  To  him  the  love  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  was  a  most  personal  and  human  love. 
He  loved  him, — so  it  seems  to  me— as  a  son  loves  his 
mother,  as  a  wife  loves  her  husband.  To  him,  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  was  no  mere  historic  figure,  eighteen 
centuries  removed,  no  mere  vanished  presence  far 
beyond  the  solemn  stars,  but  a  most  real,  most  per- 
sonal, most  present  friend  and  Saviour  ; — to  whom 
it  was  easy  and  most  natural  to  speak, — to  whom  it 
hard  not  to  speak ;  iij  whom  he  trusted  ;  on  whom  was 
he  leaned ;  for  whom  he  could  spend  and  be  spent 
with  a  pure  and  deep  and  lasting  joy  !  You  who 
have  heard  his  voice  in  prayer  so  often  and  who  know 
with  what  strong  hands  he  took  hold  of  the  mercy 
seat ;  you  who  have  seen  him  at  the  table  of  the 
Lord,  when  he  would" be  transfigured  before  you, 
though  he  wist  not  that  his  face  shown,  you  do  not 
need  that  I  should  tell  you  on  what  terms  of  most 
familiar  trust  and  sweetness  he  stood  with  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ. 

Rest  we  now  from  this  imperfect  study  of  the  life, 
which  has  not  really  ceased,  but  which  our  mortal 
•eyes  can  see  no  longer,  to  give  humble  thanks  to 
God  that  it  was  lived  among  us  ;  and  that  it  was  given 
to  our  eyes  to  look  on  it  so  long.  Its  close  was  fit 
and  beautiful.  He  did  not  want  to  die.  No  really 
healthful  soul,  it  seems  to  me,  will  long  to  die.  He 
wanted  to  live,  rather.     He  had   work  to  do  and 


The  Faithful  Minister.  361 

powers  of  mind  and  heart  with  which  to  do  it,  if 
only  the  flesh  had  not  been  so  weak,  if  the  body 
had  not  failed.  And  so  he  would  not  give  up  try- 
ing to  get  well,  so  long  as  there  was  any  use  in  try  ' 
ing,  and  until  the  will  of  God  concerning  him  was 
plainly  manifested.  But  when  there  was  no  longer 
any  doubt  what  God  would  have,  he  gave  all  up 
with  sweetest  resignation,  without  one  murmur  or 
complaint  or  fear.  His  heart's  desire  that  he  might 
come  back  here  to  die  was  granted  him.  And  to 
us,  who  had  not  quite  dared  to  ask  for  it,  was  granted 
that  we  might  look  once  more  on  the  worn  face 
of  our  dear  fellow  servant,  and  might  touch  again 
the  poor  thin  hands  which  had  grown  weary  in  the 
Master's  work.  "It  is  almost  over"  he  said  with 
his  old  loving  smile  and  gesture,  when  I  came  to 
see  him.  "  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will 
I  wait  till  my  change  come,"  he  said  again.  "  Heir 
of  God,  and  joint-heir  with  Christ,"  he  more  than 
once  repeated  with  a  calm  assurance.  There  were 
no  visions  and  no  raptures  and  no  ecstasies  of  senti- 
ment ;  but  it  was  the  pleasant  land  of  Beulah  in 
which  he  was  dwelling,  and  in  which  the  angel 
found  him  when  he  came  to  call  him.  Beautiful 
upon  the  mountains  were  the  feet  of  this  glad  mes- 
senger when,  in  the  freshness  of  his  young  en- 
thusiam,  he  came  among  you  bringing  the  good 
tidings  of  salvation.     And  beautiful,  still  beautiful, 

16 


262  Setmons. 

his  footsteps  in  the  valley,  when  in  the  soberer 
maturity  of  manhood,  he  departed  bearing  his 
sheaves  with  him !  Be  glad,  O  thou  whose  good 
grey  head  is  bent  with  sorrow  for  thy  strong  staff 
taken,  for  thy  beautiful  bow  broken,  for  the  son  of 
thy  right  hand  called  home  before  thee  ;  be  glad  for 
the  good  life  he  lived,  for  the  good  work  he  wrought, 
for  the  good  death  he  died  !  Be  comforted  in  thy 
weary  widowhood,  O  thou  from  whom  the  goodly 
presence  of  the  faithful  husband  and  the  happy 
father  of  the  little  ones  has  vanished  !  and  give 
thanks  because  for  these  few  years  of  time,  so 
blessed  a  companionship  was  given,  so  grand  a 
work  to  share,  so  rare  a  sacrifice  to  help  and  bless, 
such  Christlike  and  enduring  toil  to  comfort  and  to 
guide.  Grow  up,  O  little  ones !  to  the  inheritance 
of  sifch  a  legacy,  the  good  name  of  the  man  whom 
all  men  loved,  to  the  inheritance  in  Christ  which  he 
through  faith  and  patience  has  attained  to !  And 
ye,  the  people  of  his  love,  for  whom  he  was,  and 
by  his  spirit  and  his  memory  still  is  a  faithful 
minister  of  Jesus  Christ ;  ye,  whose  church  grows 
and  shall  grow  so  thriftily  and  greenly  because  the 
fibers  of  its  roots  are  in  his  grave,  nay  rather,  let 
me  say,  because  his  risen  life  inhabits  and  inspires 
it,  remember  him  and  give  God  thanks  for  what  he 
was,  for  what  he  is,  for  what  you  too  may  be. 
Take  up  his  yet  unfinished  work.     Catch  up  the 


The  Faithful  Minister.-  363 

standard  which  his  hands  let  fall  when  he  was  called 
away.  And  when  before  the  Master's  face  you  stand 
with  him,  and  on  you  falls  again  that  old  familiar 
smile  transfigured,  glorified,  beatified,  let  him  not 
be  ashamed  of  any  one  of  you  for  whom  he  lived, 
for  whom  he  died.  And  then,  as  now,  unto  the 
Father  and  to  the  Son  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost  be 
glory,  world  without  end  !     Amen  ! 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


\  D.'52NlU 


LD  21-100m-7,'52(A2528sl6)476 


